We walked through the evening woods, my wife and I.
It’s this time of the year that she was born, which seemed fitting
as we moved among the new and re-newed life.
The dogwoods blooming and the elms coming into leaf.
Virginia creeper emerging in delicate goldredgreen
and the recently silent trees alive with robin song.
We walked, sometimes speaking, but mostly in silence
hands in our pockets to defeat the just-cool evening air.
We walked with the setting of the Sun and the rising of springtime
absorbing the newness of it all.
Draft, Tim Gels