Spring glides briskly like a sprinter
But she wont stride,
until theres a March
to parade along the equinox
and cusp her brow
with athletic triumph
in the arena of humid applauds
I can feel her panting return, in the sound of my
boots, as they draw in the frost that
becomes grains of sandpaper pebbles,
dissolving in rays of absentia
I can see her in the patches of grass islands
that grow into continents of yellow earth;
everyday, until they've vanquished the
white wastelands of winter
and makes me a bed
of shrubs and moss
So I can sit
And listen;
To hear the warm breeze moan
As I unbutton my coat.
Refurbishing my skin
with flirtatious sunlight
Renewing the cheerful sprite
To Springs Athletic Rise
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Woah mindblowing way to personify. Poets are all married to nature it seems. In some lines the diction choice was awesome here, in others the phrasing. Great to read u again. Cheers.