First Spring, 2011
Everyone I love is dead or dying.
The sun shines garishly bright.
The ice is melting. Things are growing.
Birds are fucking in the sky.
It’s too cold and too warm,
and the earth keeps turning.
Pink flowers burst from bare branches,
too eager to last the spring.
They look absurd showing off
as if beauty still matters.
I want to tell them stop
wasting their sweetness.
źródło: Read A Little Poetry
10.09.2026