In the Face of Such Abundance

In The Face of Such Abundance

 

This lovely, laden spring
has left me quivering,
a mouth just kissed.

 

The bloom on the wild rose
is almost embarrassing,
so voluptuous, so thick.

 

Even past the blossom,
this seasons apple boughs
are lush and showy,

 

each lambent leaf
flirting and cupping
morning’s sultry light.

 

I come to the page again
and again, to sing my song
of praise and gratitude.

 

Again,
and again, I feel
the poverty of my remarks.

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