Sunday, March 6, 2011

The Last Cold Days

There is something in the thicket,
beating hearts quiver
in the last cold days

A snowflake cannot find its place

Ice on the lakes pull away from the shore

Buds swell like a rising love

Birdsong has no motive,
only the faint hope of renewal

And the cat knows that yearning
but cares not for the rise and fall of nations
or foot prints on the moon

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