These sounds of silence Rumble and roar I’m in a constant state of questioning Asking what love is, Filling in the gaps between all my questions With the things we saved for March Relishing in the idea of spring And what it means to bloom Peeling away at citrus, Reaching for the plums and nectarines In the icebox, scarfing down cooled melon Picking at peonies and daffodils Thinking about tea but hating its taste I was never a morning person But the sun these days is so new
But it’s when the winter creeps back And I awake to a morning frost Bits of past, pieces of December Pine trees and heating cars I remember the worth of remembering And the reality of how time moves And how all these questions Sprinkle down with snow, rain, sun rays, or leaves never leaving, never eased only knowing that I don’t know and that seasons don’t return; they just pass