Streptomyces

The smell of spring, alive and clean.

Streptomyces in the soil,

tickling our latent pica, the iron and nutrients,

calling to us all,

to springtails, primitive wingless insects,

routing through the ground

to feast on the microbial life.

The spores of the bacteria attached to their carapaces

and excreted by them, spread

to regenerate again and again.

The smell auguring things to come,

things wanted and unwanted.