Always it seems sudden
the appearance of Spring bowls me over
a welcoming dog in turn welcome
as a long-looked-for lover, fixed
in a colour cast of primrose
arms wide enough for both
sweep aside the dead winter dust
heaving sighs and yet still seeking
- one weather eye out on the horizon
and two revenant riders
already yellowing along the sand

Selecting bowl, primrose, dust from Sanaa’s word list for her Get Listed: Late March edition