Yet, the Spring

Memory traps
the grim; the net-

long night,
winter wind.

Powerful how
we're punished-

a short hallway,
the failing day.

It's no light thing
to hesitate, to linger

when the snow
is melting.

These mortal fields,
this "tapping" on my window,

the dark moored boat,
the tethered dreams-

and yet, and yet
the spring.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Each element in this one seems to suggest a fall, a falling away, a loss, it whispers in each stepping stanza, and what tentative stanzas, that yet,
a hopefilled completion,
this subtle

"and yet, and yet
the spring."

In this last couplet even the period suggests a strenght of belief, in spring's juvenescence.