Here's another useless piece of trash poetry from the shaking hand and tangled mind of Mike Gibbs. 'Tis usesless because it needs explained. The speaker is the person "waiting." He has waited and waited thru the cold winter. He's a bit perturbed that Spring has not shown a bit of herself in the interim to remind him that she indeed is coming. He speaks of her prejudice because she refuses to associate herself with the extreme enviorns of winter and summer. Then, she makes her first appearance in a certain wildflower, the trillium, followed by others, and then, to the one who's been waiting, his wait does not seem to have been so long. A life lesson here--once we have what we want and looking back, the wait is not significant. (Zephyr is the warming west wind bringing spring, from Greek mythology.)