Spring 2015 by Marion

the world has lost it's color---

Spring 2015
By Marion

Spring is almost here.
The bulbs I buried in January
are shyly reaching
with tiny green shoots
toward the gray, rainy sky.

(The constant pain in my
weary body hums endlessly
like the broken instrument
that it is).

March 5 was the night of the
smallest full moon of the year,
but I was dreaming of
flowing Willows and dancing dragonflies
and only saw moonshadows
through the pill-gauzy
curtain of my mind.

(My body is a prison wrapped
in electric barbed wire;
it only hurts when I move).

The Bluebirds have chosen
their tiny bird houses along
my faded wooden fence.
I press my tear-stained face to
dirt-streaked windows, watching
and longing for just one
pain-free day...

that never comes.


Spring 2018, still all true...just worse, much worse...