Coming from within a rising hedge

Coming from within a rising hedge
   Of voluptuous white oleander –
I sensed a turmoil; one writhe
   Seduced better than before

And within the naked boughs
   Of some palo verde – in a rustle
Of few leaves – I thought I saw
   Among them a potential

So quick and sullen, I almost not
   Deemed it worthy a mention
Until a lone grackle squawked
   That vernal suspicion

Then the wind flirted with a sage
   Whose mane shimmied – fervid –
As if the breath of Earth had encouraged
   Spring to dance for him.