I am envious of springtime.
The trees are alive and hopeful,
The critters and crabgrass have come,
Returning from the cold,
Dark slumber.
I envy,
Because it comes so naturally,
This imminent forward progression,
As if their natural urges
Are destiny incarnate.
I want that simplicity.
To decide and do
To want and will it.

But I fear the winter
Shall ever be my home,
Sitting silently huddled
In a barren landscape,
Trying to keep
This fire alive.

2 thoughts on “Springtime”

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