The snow has died, been plundered,


found is now everything that was snow covered,

in and hot is in us all the so spring-awakened!


(Even the ice has died, changed itself with certainty;

becaming unpretentious water, without my missing...)



See little mosquitoes swirling up and around, so unaware in the sunshine. This, while old and young hares rush across the fields and nibble on last year's grass. The just recently tired birds flap and chirp as ordained. The cats of March howl disgustingly as spring feelings sprout in all that is underdeveloped.

The desperate search for muscles and aggression, or curves and softness. Who knows which of all the freaks plays this pretended male-female best?


Spring! Come and enliven us again and again!

Spring! Now, clamber out of the fallow ground!

Spring! Hug our trees and sing your youth!



(Spring lasted just over 20 seconds this year before I got tired of it.)