Hints of Spring

It seems the winter may never end.
It will never stop snowing.
Snow will melt and freeze.

But, driving down the roads, one sees the signs of spring.
Not, as you may think, in the clearing, brimming ditches, or the yellowing of the willow limbs.
Nor in the increase in road kill or the presence of predators.

The real clue is in the garbage at the curb.
There are mattresses and couches and pots of desiccated plants.
There are outgrown toddler toys, often with a free sign taped on.
There is an old door there, and a busted window frame across the street. (Wonder if both or either of those homes houses any type of ball player?)
There are paint buckets and piles of tree limbs.

Gliders are being painted and left to dry on porches.
Cushion covers are being washed and cushions are fluffed and filled.
Swings are being rehung  -- or new swingsets  are going up.
Windows sparkle and doors stand ajar as in welcome.

Spring cleaning is a sure sign of spring, as all creatures leave their dens and begin to ramble, sometimes half-blind and half-starved (for what? Light, food, companionship? Does it matter?).
Winter's waste is being cleared away.
Light is being let in.
Life returns to bursting-at-the-seams.

Welcome Spring.
You old slowpoke, you.