It's spring at last and time to ride my bike,
Deep Blue, to work whene'er I safely may.
The exercise is good but what I like
Is what I smell; a moving sweet bouquet.
It starts with lilacs in my own back yard,
In Cahill Park, and scattered all along
My route. Then others join, but they are hard
For me to name. A cherry? That seems wrong;
This is Wyoming. Dogwood? Maybe so.
The blooms are red and white and have a scent
That makes me glad to huff and puff e'n though
It's extra work to use my nose. Content
I am to pedal on, and deeply to inhale.
And love the Greenway's deeply scented trail.
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Chokecherries, maybe?
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