Spring

Watching bees

Grass is green

Spring is here

8:30 in New Jersey

The evening air is still—

Black ice it lies in waiting—

Walking with the cold

I watch asphalt exhaling.

If winter had a home—

Or frost a day to rest—

It be within this heart,

It be within this breath.

If you’re not sure

then pause, wait

and listen to the sounds

of conscious—nothing—ness.

I open my eyes knowing

everything I need

lies within