I came across a meadow,
Just the other day.
It wore a coat of brown and gray,
Looking nothing like May.
The trees wore no leaves,
No nests were in their boughs.
I looked and looked for spring time,
And all that spring allows.
The deer were in the thicket,
I heard them move around.
The grass was brown and wintery,
The Canadian geese abound.
Where is Spring, I asked,
The meadow told me wait.
We all have seasons to go through,
Before spring can infiltrate.
I’ll come back in a few months,
And spring time I will see.
The lovely larks will sing,
From every big old tree.