CHILDREN, IT'S SPRING BY MARY OLIVER

Self-seeding white violets populate my garden each spring.

And this is the lady

Whom everyone loves,

Ms. Violet
in her purple gown

Or, on special occasions,

A dress the color

Of sunlight. She sits

In the mossy weeds and waits

To be noticed.

She loves dampness.

She loves attention.

She loves especially

To be picked by careful fingers,

Young fingers, entranced

By what has happened

To the world.

We, the older ones,

Call in Spring,

And we have been through it

Many times.

But there is still nothing

Like the children bringing home

Such happiness

In their small hands.