the surety of spring

The wheel turns of its own volition.

The mechanism groans against its gears

under the attrition of hope.

In time this weight will lift

and the breath will return

and with it a lightness

like the bright dance

of the bird of paradise.

Pressed flowers can bloom again,

contrary to the beliefs of those

depressed by ordinary reality.

But when things look up

it’s important to keep one’s feet

firmly planted,

              for the sky is a new terror.