Each
day the light comes a little earlier,
and
slowly
spring
begins to bleed through
the
grey peripheries of winter.
But
as green buds and shoots
bravely push their way
out
of cold, dark branches,
and
cherry blossoms begin to form
pink fists of petals,
fat
and full,
somewhere
else
there
is the pull
of
a minor chord.
Winter always turns to spring,
no matter the force or depth of want,
we cannot
amend or alter anything
that
has gone before.
Excellent x
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