Spring arrives here as a kind of disruption, something that slips into an ordinary working day and quietly takes over. The poem treats it almost like an inspector or an intruder: it "skulks in every place," peeks into doorways, and even checks the bathrooms. The street runs "on schedule" and a sign says *please wait*, but the season doesn't follow rules. Even a gull wandering into a forest seems out of place, pretending to read the windows like a newspaper.
The speaker feels distracted and a little overwhelmed, caught between office routine and the pull of the season. The final image makes this physical: a sneeze builds up behind the face, bursts out "through the branches," and leaves a moment too quick to put into words. The mood is playful and slightly absurd, with a dry humour, but it also captures the odd, restless feeling of spring, when the world outside seems to interrupt whatever you are supposed to be doing.