Spring in gingham

Yesterday was

the prettiest of days.

Spring really showed up

in a blue gingham dress.

Snow was a distant memory strewn

over the silent hills .

Quietly.

Brightly painted tricycles lay

discarded in the street.

As the children of winter

came out to play.

By tea time the chill had come again,

televisions blinking their blue neon lights

from warm living rooms.

I thought of you.

Far away across the poppy fields.

I know you will come again,

turning up

as unexpected

as a flower.