Rain Stopped Play

This was a scene I saw while walking to school one day; a crisp packet twirling in the wind across someone's driveway, and being halted by an incongruous but determined crocus. It struck me as an odd encounter.

The somersaulting crisp packet

Dances for the pioneer of early Spring -

A little spray of lilac crocus

Steadfast in growing through a crack

In the crisp packet's domain.

'Why are your roots not over here?'

The Walkers Ready Salted asked,

tumbling over the flowerbed.

'My seeds fall where they may,

And so here I grow,'

Crocus whispered, shivering

As the wind pulled at her petals.

'Do you not fear being trampled

Out there in the open?'

The crisp packet asked,

twirling in circles around the flower.

'My life is as fragile

As the last month of Winter,

so no, I do not fear death.'

A little rain begins to fall

Filling the crocus like open hands,

And halting the plastic packet;

He holds his growing puddle

And starts singing,

For the wet spray of Spring.