Beneath this warm, white vernal sky,
a mist of green spreading through
the remaining stand of trees, I notice
one exuberant cherry has emerged
overnight, brave blossoms a fountain
of pink against the winter-gray backdrop.
Tentatively testing their night song,
combing the dewy, new grass for morsels,
gregarious robins were eager to return.
Now, as chickadees, sparrows and finches
trickle slowly back into the north,
once-silent mornings sparkle with song.
Inside, the world is dim and narrow, but,
beyond these open windows and doors,
a hopeful world regenerates again,
as if nothing extraordinary is happening.
And I find comfort in knowing that, aside
from our troublesome existence, nothing is.
© 2020, by Hannah Six
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