a response to spring

April 7, 2010
Green begins to reach up towards my toes
Purple violets, pink tulips; their scent fills my nose
The icy, tyrannical bond of winter has been splintered
Resting on fresh green grass, it is no longer wintered
The ducks on the pond drift by with no care
Up above the birds sing as they soar through the air
There’s one isolated and skeletal tree, but a few miles away of me
Tears well up in my eyes, and I mourn for thee, poor naked tree
You deserve crimson leaves, you ought to have golden hues
I feel a rush of sadness when I, all alone, see you
Everyone knows that spring mornings are blue and bright
But just like each day, it leads to shadows and night
Nighttime in spring is a time of relaxed sleep and rest
After all, Mother Nature’s little test, of animals and plants and birds in nests
Can only go on for so many hours
So that’s why we have April showers
When Mother Nature slumbers
Father Time adjusts life’s infinite numbers

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