Blame it on Spring

In Spring, life is so overt
I have trouble focusing on it all.
For in every direction
Something is busy blooming
Into itself ever more effulgently
Everything wears its name, so blatantly.
Winter is easy for me, as
The single blade of grass
Is all that left to say yes!
Or a little girl’s left snow angel imprint.
It gives my real eyes
One point to gaze towards.
I was born in Spring
Which is why I can’t
Finish poems. Yes,
I’ll blame it on Spring!