To Marcy Howard
Spring time brings the hope of change; but also of resurrection.
Through the winter’s lonely nights;life takes its old direction,
Sights and sounds stir memories;of warmth and sunny days,
All these things kept alive;in a multitude of ways.
Now the term cabin fever;is made to mean much more,
As a cabin once a home; is now a padlocked door,
Through the winters lonely nights;in the darkness time to think,
Sanity becomes lost somewhere;with a soulbpoised upon the brink.
Sometimes with the springtime thaw;bones are what’s revealed,
The remnant of our memory;the death bell rings its appeal,
As the spring brings new life;there are those things now gone,
But with the warmth hope survives;and loss is swept along.
Yet as we lose the winters cold;its affects sometimes remain,
As a sou banished by past events;grasps for a woman’s name,
Through the winter her face now etched;on a heart and soul,
And with the thawing of the spring; this flower blooms through cold.