And a suggestive-of-spring image by my dear friend and favourite photographer Gabor Gasztonyi.
Yet another ode
Immortal springtime is a tease
though not hedonistic.
The pleasure spring brings
is a fluke, for spring
is a cog in the cycle,
we, mere fallout.
Let’s not speak of winter’s bluster
or those who are dead to us.
Today spring is large
and in charge of the decks,
arriving at last in a verdurous tide
to reanimate petrified desire,
to banish the soggy interminable
from this paradise of cedar
sweetened ocean side rainforest,
to spur us on to breed, breed, breed!
Gambol trails awash
with plashing streams, silver vernal pools.
To restore wanderlust.
To hear the splendid racket,
the shrill trill of red birds deep in a tangle
of cherry tree limbs & pink blossoms.
Such a showy in-your-face transition
after a long dawdle,
the most raucous season,
the glorious season.