They said it was spring
Portal to paradise and
Pleasure
Intrigued, interested,
I looked afar.
The mustard fields,
Stretched, nailed
To the horizon.
I heard the song of the Birds too.
Haunting, hurting and Almost healing.
Roses, rotund and robust Pretend it’s all well
Yet they stand stupidly
Stunned.
Azaleas, grand and grateful browse through
Reams of resigned reminiscences.
Riled with rancor and grudge I stood, yet
It was the splendor and
The civility of spring that
Wiped the vitriol away.