Spring-Mud
By John R. Greenwood
Spring-mud dries hard
it coats my shoes,
leaves a trail down the hall,
and tracks across the kitchen floor.
Spring-mud-clumps bring
fresh excitement for
sunny days ahead.
Spring-mud is different than
the muds of summer, fall, and winter.
It signals the beginning of this
and the end of that.
Spring-mud is happy mud.
Stomping children squish it
beneath their feet,
smiling playfully—
even a mother’s displeasure
melts away
replaced with
a sentimental smile of her own.
Spring-mud smells good.
Its scent infused with the optimism
of green lawns, soldiered in dandelions.
Spring-mud footprints leave
distinct descriptions of their origin.
Lug-boot impressions let you know
dad’s across the road in the barn.
Paw prints turn us into
animal trackers.
Size 4 sneakers leave imprints of
pre-school adventurers.
Spring-mud is joyful
when you take the time
to read it.
