THINKING OF DARWIN

And so the trees
bloom once more,
a silent hinge of
an opening door,

I feel a warmth
upon my skin,
thinking of Darwin
with the slightest grin,

and up above
an eagle soars,
I feel an envy
like never before,

an early morning
quiet and pristine
grass, a lush green,
in nature's routine,

mother left to her
own device,
unforgiving and nice,
in her spring,
rife with new life.