It's been an unusual spring
colder than some
heavy snow
long days of rain
and here today
I look out the window
as if I've never seen this before
leaves
in every view
from where I'm
locked with mother all day
she still in bed
and yet I sit here
in my own time now
before I must attend her
the bloom of the crabapple
every bush and tree
as they seem to have pushed
leaves into my face today
the warmth of this spring day
an eraser of everything before
of everything that troubles me
of fears and worries for tomorrow
certainly an oxymoron
but here goes
leaves
returns
It's plural I know
but there are so many
I cannot see them all
and some hide behind others
from me
as if embarrassed
they were late to my party
Copyright ©
2013 by Barry G. Wick
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