the Enamel of Spring


Cavity to a relic bone…

cool cold sets in…dismal and encouraging.

Not among wealth but amid slothful home.

I am ravished in petty accolades.

Never left…unto my own.

Westerly winds itch at the hem of spring’s fertile making of a fool.

However, April promises an essential maverick.

Light of day eases winter’s shame.

Offspring from a December’s nap come out for play.

They clamor and clatter at the air and offer an after bite.

Too soon daylight turns to a fitful night.

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