Rewrite/Old Poem

It is 45 degrees
on April 3
air snaps
and I am
renewed
the birds are back
and there's gonna be trouble
hey la;
purple crocuses shoot
shoots through layers
of melting snow;
and trees push buds
forth from branches
displaying new leaves
like the proudest parents
of the cutest babies
on the block
as we shed layers
like sleepy bears
and Persephone emerges
mouth red and wet
with pomegranate juice.