Spring Therapy

Time ticks in flickering moments

chipping down at our feet, swell and round.

Summer starts folding away cold weather

as an invitation for longer evenings –

impatient to hang feathered jackets back in closets.

But rain must refill bowls of lakes.

There are buds to drench and concretes to hydrate.

Birds to greet and gardens to plant.

I take myself to the willow tree. It weeps

back and forth naked in the breeze.

It’s such a sad view, but I wouldn’t know

beauty without it.

The church bell strikes the silence

under blankets of clouds —

time is ticking, we hurry to our places.

O, spring! Come to me like cinnamon,

sweet & spicy, and I’ll forget what

it is I’ve been sad about.