A gentle warm wind
To signal a season of death
Swiftly with it
The sweet song of sparrows
The soft pitter-patter of rain
Wipe up your tears and get on you feet
A new day is at your door
Take off your skinned leather parka
The cold no longer shows your breath
And put away those soft winter knits
Let there be no more harrow
And pain should be that of scraped knees
From play all but too rough from friends you meet
After all your spring chores
Sunny like a Petrarca

In the Season of life
lives happiness