The Blindness of Spring
We grow like the scent
of gardens in soft rain,
in sweet perpetual increase.
----
We revel in sunlight
refuse to contemplate the dark,
view winter premonition
with aloof disdain.
This is a poem layout from my old Metaphoratorium website and it lived on several versions of my websites dating from around 1998 or so..... --Mistryel (Mar) Walker
