May
It’s my favorite time of year.
Ideas sown in the fall, dormant
while adolescence stormed,
sprout.
They burgeon and crowd
our brains like florets
on a cauliflower.
They spread through
the classroom like weeds.
Murmur, ripple,
shout, sing.
We fling
open the windows
and let them go.
© Tamra Hays, 2008