When the snowpack leaves, hilltops
slowly draw pale green spring upward
from the hollows’ wet floors,
like a new wick pulls oil
from the lamp to it’s flame.
Recently, the subtle climates of
summits and valleys synchronized;
temporarily, shared the same season.
Ripe, waist deep grass coated slopes
from top to bottom.
Already, here on the hill, leaves fade,
dawn temperatures dip to warm Winter day range.
Regardless of rain or heat to come,
grass will never grow as thick as it had
until after the snowpack leaves again.