Only the cars stir here

Only the cars stir here
     silent and unbidden
          always rushing to the better world,
               the solid, whirring dream

Two birds appear on the street
     soft and brown-bodied, the first two
          creatures of spring, alive and daring
               leaping into the thin, grey air

Piles of snow sit dirty and unsifted
     I stare with my dull, accusing eyes
          where my gaze lands, all is turned to gloom
               I may have lost the meaning of warmth

For all here in this afternoon light is forgiven
     I stand immobile at the center of a great change
          Though I do not feel it, I know the planet turns.
               I do not know what makes a spring rain so welcome

Or the first buds of green on trees so companionable
     only that slowly and heavily the veins of love will open again
          and I shall be filled with the welling pain of something like nostalgia,

     of something
          like warm rain.

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