Random Acts of Poetry
Spring
After adamantine winter,
snow recedes like an elderly hairline.
The nude ground discloses
cracks that suck rain like parched mouths.
Now, dripping branches unclench
millions of verdant fists.
And as the dead grass fades to green,
shoots raise laurelled heads
that seem to say
"You can come back now. All is forgiven."
Saturday, March 20, 2004
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