I Used To Say Of Spring







I used to say of spring
it happens twenty times
along this footplain of mountain.

I Used To Say Of Spring
Bob Komives
Now I say it happens not at all.
Winter goes away so often
we never know how far.
Summer pays so many visits
we are slow to notice it spread out to stay.
Our eager flowers give back blooms to winter.
Our wardrobe changes
week to week,
hour by hour,
never to certainty
in warmth nor snow
nor cold nor shower.

Spring is to us a foreign word
best translated as Winter-Summer Dance Duet.
Elsewhere,
they know and love their spring,
Here,
we never know
but (almost always) we love our dance.



Bob Komives :: Fort Collins © 2002 :: I Used To Say Of Spring :: 0216

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