Outside my house the lone tree
is smiling with her crown of fresh
green leaves.

It was only a month
ago that she stood there, bare like
a curtain less window, looking
forlorn as the cold hacked at her
naked limbs.

Today, the sun is out and the rising
heat is enough for her to unfurl her
withdrawn limbs and embrace the
benign warmth.

Birds hide among the new green
and sing to the uncaring vehicles
that rush hither and thither, oblivious
of the spring symphony.

At the base of the tree is a shrub
planted by some forgotten city gardener.
It is in bloom now, bright crimson flowers vying
for attention from the many who walk past, uncaring.

Towards evening, as they begin to droop the
flowers are revived by a breeze that comes
out of nowhere. Tired but content they slowly close
their white pupils and wait for the evening to end.