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| image: Tina Urso McDaniel 2018 |
it is not the spring we long for, but
we all enjoy the lie
How Pretty
we say
how ... Exuberant
how Warm and Wonderful
pretending, ignoring
the harshness of winds
the cruelty of constant inconstancy
the fleetingness of even the loveliest moments
Like the aged longing to be young, we forget
the itching skin,
the oppressive weight of the future
the brutality of the inbetween
We pretend because we are tired of the dullness of winter.
So... no.
Let us be honest for once.
The real thing longed for:
the sun
the colors
the promise that summer
is
on its way
that life continues
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