Winter's End
The bees are humming
around the rosemary
The Sun is warm
in ice-cold air
My garlic is sprouting
green rocket head
up through composted
ever ancient Australian soil
And I'm reading Carl Sandburg's
The People yes part 99
dressed in heat soaking black
beret Basque atop my naked head
dragonfly passing pollen
sipping nectar
me too
Dark
The Sun shrouded behind windblown clouds
nightshade on the mind
a hint of nuclear winter
makes my toes turn cold
Light
bright
white
The page regains its friendly hue
Sandberg speaks to me
to my way of thinking
echoes from a time gone by
and yet
here
Hope is with the general course of history
and the people make history
and tend towards freedom
as they stumble on
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