One March morning
all the world was green.
Forests of seedlings sprouted
overnight
in our wood.
Trees, which had conspired together
in the darkness
put out sticky buds,
swelling insolently through the dead bark.
One March morning
all the birds
behaved as if there hadn't been a winter
- no cold silence -
picking up their songs
where they had left them
scattered in the autumn leaves.
One March morning
life went on
consuming death.
13th March 91
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