No More Sledding Marie

Eric Stanfield
April is cruel
The cruelest
Of months

As the snow melts
Away from the earth
Revealing the remains
We wished
Winter's cold would not preserve

Isaiah it continues?

Life our Sibyl
To touch the edges
Of decline and rot
But still remain

The dead of the land
Finally rustling to usher
A new cycle
Stinks of memory and regret

A desire broken amongst
Stony rubbish and a heap of shattered images
Strewn aside as spring's cleaning is in full

As the sun rises
And remains
To fight dusk
I read through a book

Read of winters
And snow
Covering the Earth
In forgetful layers of coldness

The calendar encroaching thirty days
And now a crowd
To dance spring's dawn
I write to Ezekiel

We are dust
No matter
How beautiful she prances
Wet hair through hyacinths

Published by Eric Stanfield

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