MOBS OF EYEBALLS NEGOTIATE THE SPRING


48

Mayflower, where art thou?
The snow-flawed days are done
Rains fix their resolutions
On the coming green to testify

That spring is as bright
As the homeland hearth
The gluttonies from which
All life sprung, galaxies wide

As the Everlasting Monday of growing things
Mayflower, Mayflower, where art thou?
The Spring she cannot be muzzled
Her superior pages of Nature force

Through the long wait, all patience
The roses know no maladies
Only the lovebeds of mornings after
That litter Daybreak with a white light
The snow-flawed days are done.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/spring-79554507