A PARADE AT FIRST LIGHT

April 12, 2013

Sit quietly behind your wooden door,

Spring will come again.”         Loy Chin Yuen  (1870 -  )

And so it has.

Bright sun in the East,

clear skies,

clean air.

Still one never knows about the circus parade

that can march into one’s mind.

Sitting with my steaming espresso

clowns make their way into my Big Top:

a Major, a Colonel, a General,

a smooth talker with a pasty mustasche,

a pinstriped lawyer,

a silver-haired doctor,

each with painted smiles on their faces.

I watch them, saddened.

But there’s the bright sunand folks walk by in short sleeves and

chairs are put out at the sidewalk café.

A street Zamboni moseys along

and Spring has come again.

The trick- to get it through my wooden door.

The trick- to get it into my wounded heart.