Cold and barren April day,
waiting on the warm.
Naked trees vainly reach
to the sky without form.
Dry and lifeless weeds
withstood winter’s blast.
Empty faded barn,
a vestige of the past.
A place long abandoned,
a lonesome, vacant site,
somehow speaks to me
from the edges of the night.
A spring that is delayed
will still arrive, I know,
but yet on this day
a chilly wind does blow.
I put my face to the sun
and feel its magic touch
as I leave this silent spot
I’ve enjoyed so much.
Tomorrow will be warm,
so promises have been made,
and in another spring,
this place still will fade.
Summer will have its way
and Autumn rain will fall,
but on this day in April,
Spring holds me in thrall.

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