Nothing weary about the pace of this poem. It has a rhythm like you’re trudging towards something, with purpose that is perhaps undefined, but is forward motion nonetheless.
Once Christmas is over and the evenings start getting lighter, Spring looks closer and there are signs of new life, we start to feel better. Know there’s a way to go but we’re over half way there…optimism is how the human spirit survives.
Shaking off winter is always a struggle but the first signs of early spring flowers does lift the spirits.
Absolutely
Nothing weary about the pace of this poem. It has a rhythm like you’re trudging towards something, with purpose that is perhaps undefined, but is forward motion nonetheless.
Once Christmas is over and the evenings start getting lighter, Spring looks closer and there are signs of new life, we start to feel better. Know there’s a way to go but we’re over half way there…optimism is how the human spirit survives.
I wrote this one in a Leonard Cohen style drone, enjoying the rhythm of a downbeat train passing through my body.
A grandchild in the Spring, hey? My birthday is in April and I have always thought Spring is a nice time to be born. :)