The Winding of Spring


I am enfolded in sun,

In the blatant hot stares of a

Wednesday afternoon,

And I find my mind


In other Wednesdays—

In the gentle perfection

Of a first kiss.

The field before me is an

Expanse of green

Reaching out to blue skies,

Endless in possibilities.

And I note the warm breeze

Making play at the wildflowers

In soft caresses

And I feel like one of them,

Your kiss pulling at my memory

In soft whispers,

Petals trembling—

This is spring.


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