Spring Tide.

This is a mad March day
when the sea abandons itself
to the clear light of another Spring
and shakes out the grey of winter.
Hair flying, voice roaring,
it scatters wet jewels into a blue sky,
able to breathe freely at last.

A sweet breath of clarity
throws water in the face of an old friend.
Spring stands shivering in the cool air,
a declaration of life, another chance.
Daylight streams around half remembered corners,
dust swirls upwards into spirals of hope,
the soil begins to move.



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