Spring came with little fanfare this year,
Rather like a shifty salesman,
Oozing in and out of town, before people
Noticed the shoddiness of his wares.
Coaxed out of hiding, not by sunlight
But by the dictates of biology,
The blossoms opened quietly and just as
Quietly fell to the rain-sodden ground,
As we huddled inside our steel and
Concrete walls, hiding from the never-ending
Rain and gloomy-skied days of our lives.
It doesn’t feel like Spring, at least not any
Spring I’ve known before, and the absence
Of sunshine and birdsong is strangely ominous.
This day began with the illusion of light and hope
But now the color and the promise drain away.
Leaving me restless and unsatisfied
And starving for the color blue.