Spring Being Poem by W.I. Stoneberger

Spring Being



Let me begin
to become
perfect-petaled
spring being
caterpillar sure of destination.

Let me be
stirred sudden
as Spring storm
spurred with no stimulant
aside its own power.

Let me shed
with shiver snake-like
the long skin of Winter
the hoared scale.

Let me burst
into bloom
brilliant-eyed
azalea bright
changing with the season.

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