It’s April and it’s poetry time. Any excuse to post a poem.

Here’s my first one of the season, another cleave poem because I did it after bloody hours of torture. I exaggerate. But it wasn’t like rolling off a log either.

Wind’s from the north/ spring clouds bowling

From the wintry sea / gulls soaring inland

Cold rain spatters / over dancing river waves

Tearing tender blossoms / splashing the banks with foam.

Winters grip tightens /in the first days of springtime

On bird-huddled branches/ hazels are greenly leafing

And nestlings pipe with feeble voices / in the pale sun streaming.

I walk with heavy heart / Blackbird’s song is in my ears

Remembering the golden past / filled with joy and easy beauty

When summer danced / rippling bright as river water

For you and me / fading with the distant twilight

Now I am left /