Any day now the leaves will return, colour
bound to fill our lives, relieve our eyes of
all we have been forced to take in as winter
has, and does, dull our vistas.
The ugliness of it all, or most of it, may seem
less degrading. Spring anon, warmth of the sun
and seasonal refrain, time and again, our lives
may appear more normal.
As it should be, any day now, overly familiar
bleak terrains that encompass our soul will
speak differently in the sense of soon and
silence of transformation.
04/19/2024 j.g.l.
