If ever there were a spring day so perfect,
so uplifted by a warm intermittent breezethat it made you want to throw
open all the windows in the houseand unlatch the door to the canary’s cage,
indeed, rip the little door from its jamb,a day when the cool brick paths
and the garden bursting with peoniesseemed so etched in sunlight
that you felt like takinga hammer to the glass paperweight
on the living room end table,releasing the inhabitants
from their snow-covered cottageso they could walk out,
holding hands and squintinginto this larger dome of blue and white,
well, today is just that kind of day.