Perhaps it is the gloom
\nof impending war.
\nThe long winter that overstayed its visit.
\nThe human condition
\nwhich seeks order,
\npredictable rain,
\nrules for the road,
\nand passing legislation.
\nWhatever it is,
\nsome or all,
\nthe ides of spring is upon us.
\nThe quickening of the air,
\nnew shoots from the ground,
\nthe passing of the ice,
\nand muddy shoes.<\/p>\n
An angst in the heart
\nthat comes and goes with the clouds.
\nHow many journeys are left in me?
\nShould I observe Lent
\nor putter in the garden?
\nWrite another poem,
\nor observe a silence that needs attention?
\nPerhaps it is spring,
\nthe most temperamental of times.
\nThe languor of summer,
\nthe ambitions of fall,
\nthe sleep of winter
\nare easy companions.<\/p>\n
But spring gets on the nerves,
\ncreates rifts in the soul,
\ndemands love,
\nstays up all night,
\nand refuses to sleep in the day.
\nIt is marmalade on the fingers,
\na stone in the shoe,
\nflavors and perfumes
\nnever encountered before,
\nand a time for people like me
\nto be young,
\none last time or two,
\nand salute the sun
\nand the undefeated child inside them.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Perhaps it is the gloom of impending war. The long winter that overstayed its visit. The human condition which seeks order, predictable rain, rules for…<\/p>\n