-- Lonesome Spring --

John Herlihy

The season of hope is now a lonesome spring;

Never before did it ever such melancholy bring.

The early dawn still awakens us with its fresh light;

Although night departs, darkness lingers in sight.

The spring rains still come with their regular deluge,

As we are tucked away in our houses as only refuge.

The buds still open slowly, then burst into bloom,

While I sit here alone, confined to this single room.

Yet, there is always a yet, I still continue to hope;

My dreams are still protected, no need to provoke.

I know there are always different ways for us to think;

We will move forward and not just stand at the brink.

When the twilight settles and nighttime will arrive,

We know the promise of tomorrow will help us survive.

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(c) John Herlihy 25 March 2020