▲ 1 r/justpoetry
For in these springs that dawn unwelcome,/
Through lids pried open, through eyes scorched,/
Their tokens - cruel and unexpected/
Launch a benevolent affront: /
/
A hurried, single, solemn flower;/
A rabbit shoots through grey and green;/
A bridal dance that for an hour/
Has mayflies buzzing at the seams;/
/
A mirthful dove, in mindless vigor,/
Would, as it did the year before - /
No olive leaves to line his cradle - /
Pad it with yesteryear's thorns./
/
How can this myriad of creatures/
Be kept from hastening reprieve?/
I do not ask this spring be hindered -- /
But past the first madness of grief.
u/Astraea85 — 7 days ago