Monday, March 9, 2015

Another March

Another March
There’s snow upon the ground and yet the sky,
aglow in evening’s shades, has told me this –
it’s coming soon – that spring, that’s still a dream
that stirs within the winter’s slumbering.

And walking home this evening, I can see
the buds are turgid on the leafless branch –
and so, as winter’s darkness yields to light,
there wakes again that dormant, hopeful lust.

A woman has her monthly cycles and
the ones without a shelter yearly ones.
And now the season's turning and the sap
is rising slowly towards the sun and warmth.


How many cycles has this planet known,
how many more are left for humankind?
The snow is melting on the city’s streets,
and I have lived to see another March.

Oh sun that lights the day, oh moon and stars,
oh seasons of the year that cycle through –
you'll still be here, when I and those like me
are vanished like the snow that winter brought.

And what will other winters bring to Earth,
what other plagues that yet have music, art?
On countless planets, by the countless suns,
the seasons come – and surely then depart.
2015 March 9th, Mon.
Brooklyn, New York

No comments: