Spring Already?

By Ja Vi   

Tomorrow, leaning forwards with its hands
cradling its face like a woman I will one day know
Today: It speaks with its comely voice,
Compliments of wine and useless sorrows

Fall over yourself, sunlight: what do you show?
Your own bald-spot in the mirror of my disdain,
your own mother breathing her death-bed notions

Human souls spit their envy to the sky
It raises its horse-head and ponders mortality
Low beneath its brow, we stretch our clouded bodies
bored already with what the birds have brought us

Ah! It is over-familiar and we know its tricks
Winter leaves us to the care of colorful inertia

Give me a number, it is my age and it
is an ugly crisis now...
This sight of Spring
isn't much to sing

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