Spring Break Poem by Suzanne Hayasaki

We sit outdoors
On a wooden porch
Overlooking a garden
With wilting irises
And tulips past their prime.

It is not yet summer
But the first burst of spring has passed.
The blossoms have fallen
New green leaves have filled in.
It's an in-between season for art.

And yet, if I close my eyes,
My ears hear a rural story:
Birds calling out with all kinds of songs
At least two different types of frogs
Rototillers working in unflooded fields
And a tinny melody announcing noon.

This cottage tea shop
Set so quaintly in a dip
In a low mountain range
Is just rustic enough to be charming.

My husband and I sit
In familiar silence
Breathing in the sweet air
Appreciating the midday sun
That isn't unbearable - yet.

We feel we deserve this treat.
These pots of tea
These scones with clotted cream.
We have drudged.
We have scrimped and saved.
We have parented and PTA-ed.

Now, as the summer of our lives is fading
And our energy is gradually waning
We are finding ways to escape
To take to the road or sit at home
And make the most of the leisure
We feel we have earned.