there is a permanent chill in the sap rising
a soaking to the skin and out through the leaf
that shivers
it is not the chattering cold of winter
but pleasant goose-bumps to match the freckle
of spring sunshine
as the first flowers die back having satisified
the early bee - petals speckle white -
drop their tantalizing colours - to make way -
to make way for perennial summer
that which droops now wet beneath the slowing rain
will stretch it's veins
and we hope on hope
for those days
The Blue Book
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