March, in time

leaf squares off with
wrapper on the pavement
sparring like their robin
counterparts who
have returned with
the waxing daylight

through windows
I watch the blackbirds
that are really blue
in the right light
they ebb and flow
from tree top to
the lowly gutter
trickling with a drink
for them to sip from

though through windows
I watch these things
I see in front of me
the Monday before
when I was soothed
by the beating pulse
of an IV machine's pump
as it echoed through
a tube, the side bar
of a hospital bed

twas a mantra
laid upon my heart
chanting relief is
on its sweet way
and the tones of
the heartbeat and blood
pressure monitor sounded
the bells of mountain
temples within my psyche
signaling the end of
this superficial ritual

but the present slaps me
letting me know this
has passed and gone
and reminds me
to keep an eye on the
blackbirds that are really blue
as their tides will
pass away too