The Last Spring
This is the last spring for these few remaining vacant lots
down south of the river.
The signs are already posted:
“AVAILABLE!” and “COMING SOON!!”
The college even wants to turn the old golf course,
home to deer and coyote still,
into more cookie-cutter condos.
Five years ago, the creek was home to herons and big turtles.
Fifty years ago, this was all farmland and open woods.
Next year, it will be clear-cut, under construction, civilized, gone.
The small rains we had last week
have decked the woods in color.
A big mesquite, on the only corner without a gas station,
is covered in yellow flowers.
Does it know that this is the last spring?
Is its bright display a desperate bid for attention,
a vegetative cry for help?