I will seek the lasting warmth of spring
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Pollen-swirls have ringed around my crown:
springtime sun is speaking through the sound
of chirp and rustle — bark and wayward chime
that scintillate between human designs.

Shapes that sweat and toil — make, unmake
shelters rough that shade and briefly sate
murmur there — beyond reach of my ear
when work is done, behind a thatched seal.

Too long ago was my frail vessel shaped
to revel in this newness, fresh partake
of innocence of bloom and beauty crisp
yet still, redemption sweet I now enlist:
unloose me from these harsh-conceived bounds.

All across the cobbled mess of town
my spirit wanders far to yearn for warmth
that dwindles not as emb'ring coals of hearth
must ebb in wait for older branch to fall
in order to rekindle brighter awe.