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Incident in April

By Glady's McKee / April 1, 1980



The new day runs, strained gold into my hands As April flings confetti on the trees. How can my weary-winter heart shed grief looking on these? Meadow-sweet blossoms and the summer birds Are full of song and seeking nesting As I stand questing My heart fills up with flowering scents and sun, Spirit renascent despite loyal scars and Easter won.

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