Once more, slowly, with feeling

By

The linden tree has done it Again, outside my window, Sparked green infant leaves, Fluffy as blossoms. ''Young tree,'' I say, ''Have done.'' Stay so, With grass fresh born and Scilla bluely bright. Your stretching up can wait. A spring will come when You too sense an ending And bless a season's Passing once Reluctantly And slow.

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