April 14, 1993
          
          Clouds dissolving,
          a crystal blue day dawns over the campus.
          Birds sing in the golden morning,
          their calls, like chapel bells, 
          ring as if the very air I breath is resonating.
          A mourning dove wonders, "Whooo is this sun?";
          "Ours," grackles and starlings and blackbirds reply,
          while a gleeful little chickadee intones...
          "Springs here....Springs here!"
          



copyright Michael R. Martin, 1996
all rights reserved