Gratuitious Poetry Post

[yakalskovich]

Something I wrote at age twenty. I get reminded of it each year around this time.



Awakening

Each year when the grey shroud
Of the dead time
Enfolds the land
And leaden clouds
Veil the powerless sun
Day by day,
And the icy winds
And penetrating rains
Pierce my thickest layers
As I cycle along
Fighting as I go

I very nearly
Don't expect this
Ever to happen again:

First spirits of green leaves
Let the skeletons of trees
Sparkle with promise,
And my bike's wheels
Glide unopposed
Over dry ground.
Busy birds hop and sing
As smiling, standing
On a sunny path,
I watch them;
There is light in the morning
That wakes me with a laugh
And my sunken spirits
Rise joyfully.