Spring in Chicago

On the first day of May, The warmth spread, And the memories of winter’s chill Whooshed out to the rumbling winds. The first budson the trees, And the flowers make color at the edge still. The honey bees hum a tune, Each flower’s note is sung, And each heart beat shows a warmth. City of the moving white and green, With sunshine laughter— Awakening and refreshing all in kind.

The time for singing has come, And in the cool of the air I hear, The brush of the leaves, The birds play upon the lines, And the colors will brighten, As the open hands hold futures in bright calm. As hope rises through this world afresh, Spring brings life anew in its hold.

• Carl Sandburg