End of a Season

I wanted this to be special.
I want to say, “Please, wait, go slow —
savor the breath in this “Yes”, full
of all the words there weren’t time for.
Between winter and spring a door
swings open, laughing at them both.
New leaves flirt with raindrops, bend low,
bow, and bounce back up, full of mirth.
Is it the same for you? Maybe
this is the time to shift away
from studied measures, wait to see
what happens next. What do you say?
There are times for scripts and schedules,
times when they are only for fools.


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