My inbox fills up
 
with spring’s first devastation:
 
news of my friend’s death.

 
 
 

First craving of spring—
 
if only I had a plum
 
to go with my tea!

 
 
 

Last day of the month—
 
spring moves on relentlessly,
 
leaving me behind!

 
 
 

First small joy of spring—
 
a young boy at the bike store
 
gets a bargain price.

 
 
 

First sorrow of spring—
 
my mother’s teacup shatters
 
on the kitchen floor.

 
 
 

First cleansing of spring—
 
I devote my day to tea
 
and meditation.

 
 
 

First bike ride of spring—
 
air hisses from the back tire
 
as I head for home.