Alice Persons of Westbrook is the co-founder of Moon Pie Press, which lists books by a range of poets, both new and established. In today’s poem, she muses about spring’s influence on the natural world and on us.

Mud Season / By Alice Persons

After a brutal Maine winter

the world dissolves

in weak sunshine and water:

Mud sucks at your shoes.

It’s impossible to keep the floors

or the dogs clean.

Peeling layers of clothes, you emerge

pale, root-like, a little dazed

by brighter light.

You haven’t looked at your legs

in months

and discover an alarming new geography

of veins and flaws.

Last year you scoffed at people

who got spray-tanned

but it’s starting to appeal.

Your only consolation is the company of others

who haven’t been to Nevis

or Boca Raton,

a pale army

of fellow radishes,

round onions,

long-underground tubers.