a whisper of sound, a passing whoosh – and nothing more
a soft touch, a tiny dimple – then gone
a scent, powdery smooth – only air
a fresh taste, springlike flavor – nothing there
a bulge, with swollen tip – just empty space
it must be time, I thought, but I was wrong
only my hopeful imagination
but no…
the next morning there they were
awakening the senses
so alive and ready, wiggling in the wind
just like that, growing before my eyes
sparse at first,
each day swelling, accumulating
and now a cloud, an inflated flurry
expanding in the space, completely full
exactly right
filling my heart,
welcoming spring,
the season arrives at last
fireflytrails 
Such beautiful words capturing that anticipation of spring! Still waiting here in the Northeast, but I see the signs!
What a beautiful poem. And a perfect way to celebrate the near end of Slice of Life and the earth’s rebirth.