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Nothing New

Spring? Again?

Defying metaphors of youth these leaves and buds,
for all their seeming freshness,
are only green  as countless greens have greened in ages past.

For all the poets struggle to rearrange their words of praise
there is no trick, nor metaphor
can ease their weary syllables of century-loads of meaning.

And though the mind may know it as the paragon of newness
this Spring is born already old,
far older than the knower or the knowing.


2 Responses

  1. Check out the ezine/literary publication “Passager” at passagerbooks.com. It’s a publication for “over fifty.” I think some of your work might do well there. I just sent in some poems for their poetry contest which ends on March 15th. You should send some stuff in too. Maybe the lizard brain one?

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