April is poetry month, let’s end the month’s last weekend with a promise for more.

Spring has always been depicted in art as the season of hope, renewal, fecundity, joy and promises. Each season only reminds us that we’re a microcosm of that what’s unfolding on a much larger scale.

Promises

Six o’clock sun on a spring evening
Feels like a promise stretching its legs
The day wanes
Into the edges of the night
Dare I hope for a longer tomorrow?
And more warmth from the setting sun
Will the buds burst forth?
And return to life
Still and empty
Will suddenly fill
From the release of a single sigh

Follow the Fork!