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Reawakening to another spring. |
| Spring Again The winds blow hard across the river And comb the trees of winter The water’s curl up o’er their banks And spray the rocks with foam, River wet, for the first time this year. The purple sky shows not a star And the moon hesitates to be seen Folly, without a light to anyone out walking Or to wildlife, where they’ve been. The angry rains have vanished Though their tempers in the ground And for all of nature’s motion I dare not make a sound. Tomorrow… the sun, the warmth, the smell Of spring flowers Daring to poke their sleepy heads above ground. My joy will find expression. April/1981 |