Despite the dark waves
obscuring our position
the wintry winds of
turmoil blurring or plain erasing
the boundaries
between our realities and fictions—
the simple symmetry
of spring still arrives
like a diamond that gleams
inside the mind
none can doubt
the primacy of the image
or mute the message roaring
from awareness's periphery—
one day it will be okay
it will be fine
and pure
to balk and cheer
those in attendance will rise
in observance of who's not here
the white simplicity of chalk
will fall heavy and cover dirt—
first and third
then the foul lines
and of course
that glad paradise known
as home—all of those
crisply re-identified.
