The First Daffodil

In the Spring memories blow like wind through the corners of my soul replacing the dark winter which time has now beset Playing its distant lute change is thrust upon me rebirthing what fall had rightly claimed and buried in the past Visions of dancing June bugs they fervently surround me mating my wonderment with joy as summer waits untilled The whirlwind dharma that so haunts my dreams left comatose and vacant freeing me for what’s to come —and what has always been (Bryn Mawr College: March, 2023)