They say "smile
and the world smiles with you"
as time goes slowly by,
I realise the opposite's also true.
It's like the life's
been sucked out of the room.
Sick of the same stale air,
dying to breathe anew.
If the trees could hear us.
If we could see them.
When they bud and blossom
I'm always the first to notice.
This year, I fear.
I may not notice them at all.
All those stolen minutes -
spent lost alone in thought.
Head buried in the news.
The Dow Jones,
The film reviews.
All those eagerly sought distractions
fall away now
and all there is
is time.
For me, for you.
For each other.
Who knows when
our time together will end?
Fifty years ago
they said beauty
was in the street.
Half a century later,
however,
solace is redefining
what that means.
I heard it said
That April was the cruelest month.
This year's March
has left me envying the plants,
And how they reach
Toward the sun.
The days they feel
like they'd develop in black and white -
it's like we're living
by the light of the night.