THE BECOMING OF SPRING by Gregory Ramírez

After this deep breath,

I turn back on the trail

To jog toward the sun—

Boisterous while white clouds

Serve as cotton swabs sprawled

On that celestial counter 

We call the sky.

Women push strollers

And cyclists zip by,

Fellow congregants

On this trail whose eyes

Probably sting (like mine)

From baptismal sweat.

The mountains behind me

Now serve as waves

From an imaginary tsunami. 

Meanwhile, nearby patches 

Raise tiny green arms

And maple trees burst

Like purple fireworks.

My steps slow, 

And my jog nears its end—

A sign the drop to cool 

My tongue across 

This chasm has dried.  

Born in Fresno, California, Gregory Ramírez earned his bachelor's and master's degrees from California State University, Fresno and his Doctor of Arts degree from Murray State University. He has taught English full-time at the Madera Community College since 2008. Over two dozen of his poems have appeared nationwide in the following publications: The Broad River Review, Cantos, and Hawai’i Pacific Review along with anthologies such as Heyday Books’ reprinting of Highway 99: A Literary Journey Through California’s Great Central Valley and Corners of the Mouth: A Celebration of Thirty Years at the Annual San Luis Obispo Poetry Festival.