Waiting for Spring

Spring arrives at different times
Depending on location
And where I spend the weekends
We have springtime deprivation.

The trees are bare, the ground is brown,
The daffodils lack flowers 
And insects haven't yet appeared
To wield their stinging powers.

The city, though, looks lush and filled
With vibrant pinks and reds 
Of bushes, blossoms and of tulips
Nodding all their heads.

I think I'd trade the quiet here,
Where springtime is a'snooze,
For Manhattan - noisy, crowded
But decked out in gorgeous hues.