Thursday, March 18, 2021


Little by little, 
the poverty of spring 
has become the new look—

first, a young trend;
then, an everyday 

and finally, 
a succoring 
and revitalizing affect.

The yellows and reds
deep down 
in mud's brown,

the bare trees standing frightened
as wrecked umbrellas 
in the raw wind.

The sharp and compact 
vocabulary of winter 

no longer speaks
in a patois we understand.

Now, the same bare wind 
sings of a new legend, 
in which 

is the next action; 

stillness, after all, is 
still an offensive maneuver;

and silence 
is the sound 

of a crisis 
which has passed.