Spring is cool here
Holding its breath I guess
The sky slowly turns blue
Aching for exhale
Daffodils flurry the yard
Nod their yellow kindness
I think I lost kindness this year
Is there a spell for reawakening?
Yesterday a wren strutted the windowsill
Then tapped the shuttered glass
In some sort of Morse code I didn’t understand
What is the sign for forgiveness?
Last night the voice went dry
Gritty sand clogging my throat
Chia seeds swelling in gelatinous glee
Can silence be measured?
Outside the buildings have all gone to bed
Even the stars have widowed the moon
While I clock the dawdled minutes
How hollow is want?
This morning someone left a plant at my door
Its green offer soothing my soggy heart
I gently placed it near a sunny window
Both of us bowing toward the light
Sylvia Ahrens, Lexington
An earlier version of this poem was written as part of the Lexington Poetry Month in June event and appears on that website.