Spring comes on, soft and blurred at the edges.
Rising green blades, tulips sprouting forth,
Disturbing the deathlike sleep in the hedges,
With the shrill chirping of birds returned north.
In another lifetime, an earlier season,
Love rushed in like a summer squall.
A young man, adoring his girl beyond reason,
Holding her close til the colors of fall.
Leaves on the ground, edges tipped with frost,
The Great War took him and love was lost.
What peace could she ever have at all?
She hid beneath the gloom of winter’s pall.
Spring came on, sap rose in the trees,
There was no answer but acceptance;
The tide of life would not ease.
But to pretend that she was living
Until the hour when
There was no more pretending, only living.
Spring had come to her heart again.
©Deborah Goschy, 04/20/2014