I was walking on a chilly day,
Dreading the spring that was coming in,
Why did springs come anyway?
Bringing thoughts of things that once had been.
And so I paused to think of times to come,
Thought it might change my mind’s direction,
Springs never seemed to come alone,
But always brought stale thoughts to my affection.
I wondered why I never picked the dreary winters,
As the time my mind would stop to brood.
In my mind there seemed to be a splinter,
Turning spring-times into secret moods.
For all the things that come to me to ponder
As spring finds it’s way into these chilly days,
Stay stored within my brain up yonder,
And only pick the spring to come and play.
It crossed my mind that I was only guessing,
Since it was a chilly day and spring was only near,
Maybe this time spring would bring a blessing,
Spring might even come alone this year.
© DiAnne Ebejer