Spring



I’m Spring

Deafened by the weight

And straining my stems to break the ground open.


I am spring.

Hurt by the barren groping of wet shields

Chilling my spine,

Fabric dampening

Pollen soaked and sullen.


I am spring.

Forced by tooth and root by

The shriek of sun beams

Yet, coaxed by my comrades

Nestled in my patch-stricken home.


The manure fresh,

Water flowing.


I am still again,

Come the plights of my next

awakening.


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