The Gift of Spring
Spring arrives slowly on Block Island shores,
It awakes, goes back to sleep, and then snores.
Down at the Spring House pump, that's where it all began,
When the wild mint grew through the old ice, to which we all ran.
Guarded by an old snipe, a big spider, and a new field mouse,
We went down the short trail to the old Pump House.
We always lingered, down at the old well,
Looking for signs of true spring, and what it would tell.