Willow leaves and bends

Breathe in as the scent ascends

Spring is here again

Climb another beech

Look out at the city reach

Hear words without speech

Soon the leaves will bud

Covering your fragile limbs

Feet slide in the mud

I felt the last sun

Dip below the horizon

Wait for a season

Synapses connect

In a tangled woven mess

Neurons lay a hedge

Then it dawned on me

I never thought it would come

Winter is over

If flowers could write

Poetry, would we be more

Likely read it?

On mites, worms and ticks

You thrive. With horse hair and sticks

Build a nest of tricks

As sun follows rain

As sure as day follows night

Spring will spring again

Behind towering spires

A beauty far out of reach

I cast my own spell

Stand against the rain

Shaken but as yet unmoved

Waiting for the sun

My wheels are spinning

Does the bar keep on raising

Or have I shrunk back

The further I go

The more lost I have become

Too late to turn back

Banks buckle and burst

Water waiting for its turn

To run to the sea

Out here in the sticks

Far away from sine wave blips

Time like slow rain drips

Despite the wet wood

The wind the rain the black mood

All has become soot

Spring surely unfurls

Bringing coiled up catkin curls

Fling pollen dust swirls

Morning bus stop sky

Water floods in from all sides

Can’t escape my pride

Digging in the dirt

Scrabbling in the gravel

Harrow and furrow

Spring ripples decay

Cracks in the afternoon sky

Hope outshines all light

Each fork a new path

Some take you back to the start

Others lead nowhere

Do trees feel alone

As they reach through yesterloam

Listening for a phone?

Even when the sun

Breaks though ever thicker clouds

Still the rain will fall

Shouts echo cold Styx

Bounce around the blackened bricks

Carry candlesticks