Not so light
Gillian Swain
Sometimes no amount of springtime
will shake the weight of winter
the kind rained in with sadness.
Not the filtered sunlight
not the soft shield of leaves
nor the shrill colours singing from the yard.
Not the clear endlessness of new blue
nor the soft pillowed pink of dusk.
Some springtime is overshadowed
the lilt of a day with unleashed sadness hangs
the way tree branches
seem to sag
and ache
looking for sunlight.
a poem about grief - conveyed so well I identify with it. Great title.
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