The Spring that Never Sprung
A lament
--
Maybe this is finally it
the spring that never sprung
haven't seen the sun
in over a week
sometimes it sneaks a peak
over the grey sky that lurks
like an endless void
I swear she hears me speak
but she doesn't seem to care
instead, just like spring
she plays hide and seek
but with my memories
Of when spring forced its way
to make room for new life
like when I would spend the day
bike riding the Don River trails
then caught a rainbow from
the corner of my eye
always opened my mouth
to catch a raindrop
Even when child’s play
was tossed aside
my body knew
when my spring
arrived
there was still that butterfly
fluttering along
right beside me
and inside of me
as I walked the route to school
in a new summer dress
proud of the youthfulness
it hugged
But there are no kids
skipping to school
there are no warm breezes
harkening wanderlust
only characters starring
in a bad dystopic book
that must be written by a crook
I got ripped off this spring but
maybe the spring back of the bow
and arrow will strengthen its blow.
Lindsay Soberano-Wilson is the editor of Put It To Rest. Her chapbook Casa de mi Corazón: A Travel Journal of Poetry & Memoir (Poetica) is coming soon. Find her on Medium, Instagram, or Twitter. Lindsay Soberano-Wilson ©2021.
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