spring

Spring the first winter, after a long war, was cold today snow was slushy, the beginning of spring a poor street, houses had not been painted for years not much foo, the ice was reluctant to let go of its pale grasp It was then I saw a wall of flaking paint a solitary yellow flower, the color so bright it blinded me I had a moment of clarity, I understood and saw it all In the windows of old houses, curtains and sills flowers in pots of empty tins humanities need for beauty I must not forget, hastened home to write the wonder of life. So long ago now, spring 1948 people were friendly back then we had suffered together and survived