It’s springtime in Durango and the

La Platas still have snow.

The grass is turning green again but

not enough to mow.

Blossoms are clinging to lots of fruit trees,

please Lord, don’t let them all freeze . . .[again]

Deer have eaten my tulips and other

plants too,

they leave calling cards that stick to my shoe.

Above in the treetops birds are

happily singing,

below in the churches wedding bells

will be ringing.

The Animas is up and rising still higher,

for your kayaks and rafts out before

it gets drier.

Soon you’ll see geese and their goslings

galore,

learning to swim and walk on the shore.

The river trail’s busy with walkers and

joggers and bicyclists too,

While people are cleaning up yards, a

Springtime must-do.

We’ll soon hear the train whistle

as it heads up the track,

taking people to Silverton and bringing

them back.

Dogs are hanging out car windows with

the wind in their hair

Cats are roaming all night, God only knows where.

Lock up your trash can, clean the grill with

great care,

none of us want to meet up with

a bear.

Tourists are here, license plates from

each state,

OMG the traffic! Who opened the gate?

I’ve lived in Durango a good 60 years,

through fires and drought and snow

packed in tiers.

Through winter and springtime, summer

and fall,

Guess I must like Durango, bears,

high prices, politics and all.

Carol Bynum

Durango