like a toddler waking from an
afternoon nap, I blink: blearily.
Oh!
Each year, as if for nature’s
Christmas, we wait all night, for
day, for sunshine!
Why, tell me: tell me!
Tell me –
Naked!
Baring my long-since covered arms,
like some indecent bear,
lumbering out of hibernation
into this simple child’s world,
where a lithe flower or a
buzzing bee elicit
simple giggles.
There is nowhere to
hide:
indoors, we regard the children playing
sadly:
I wish there was really such a thing as spring –
I have not yet had time to recover:
Donald Forster Sculpture Park
Guelph, Ontario, Canada
Photographed by Hanneorla: http://www.flickr.com/photos/hanneorla/
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One Art, to recognize, must be,
Another Art to Praise.
- Emily Dickinson