I stumble
over signs of early spring
buds bound to burst
ahead of time
of frost yet to come

there is a hint of blue
shimmering through clouds
heavy with random encounters
empty shells of words
ahead of schedule

I have left them
one by one
to ponder
to germinate
to follow my shadow
among scraggy sunbeams
in early springs
tinged by mud
and the glory
of late inceptions

and you
who sit
on this subway bench
with your old bag
full of unfinished words
re-patterning syllables
for new vows
mind staring
at migrating birds
on their way home
for the tremor of their wings
in the nest of your belly

we perceive
signs of early spring
of persistent
patches of ice

© Aprilia Zank, Ph.D.

View guest contributor Aprilia Zank’s bio HERE

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