A Vernal Fairy Tale

The spring forest greens
from ground to sky
as if an unseen fairy godmother
slowly lifts her wand,
transfiguring
the ragged winter gown
in an ancient
fairy tale.

Midnight is still
so far away, as she tucks
her feet into dew-dropped
verdant slippers,
skirts draped with
spiderwebs.
The leaves are last, uncurling
like petals,
shimmering patterns
back lit by spotlight
of golden sun.

Gardens full of crocuses
and daffodils,
whisper behind their hands.
She looks so drab
in green, studded
with the brown of
decaying leaf litter.

But the mayapple spins,
unfurling skirts to sky.
The trees begins to whisper
song of leaf and wind.
And the green man
slips his hand
around the bark
of her waist.

Falling,
again and again
in love.