Spring Canticle

Turgid and straining

the river claws

at banks’ captivity

clamoring for freedom.

 

Amorous songbirds

summon pre-dawn

lovers and the sun

from its slumber.

 

Petrichor twines round

nascent buds

struggling to arouse

themselves and the senses.

 

She has been bound

in greyed silent-scream

odorless dreams, longing

to awaken.

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