Monday, March 31, 2014

CRESCENDO

Quiescent and 
perfectly 

balanced—here at last

on the first
expectantly
raw but not yet 

bleeding 
edge 
of April—we may,

if we like—
each begin
to observe 

those 
scraps of wild woods 

we love most 
in our world—presently and unmistakably 
growing;

not yet 
a bit greener,
but rather 

gradually—if not 
altogether

musically—
louder,
and more 

and more 
jampacked—with melody.

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