SPRING
When the ebb of life is low
Days are fast and nights are slow
The grass once green now wears a shroud
The trees stripped bare that once were proud
All around an air of death
As you breathe a dragon’s breath
People are cold on Cardboard Street
Hiding from the wind and sleet
Hair is brittle, skin like bread
Lips are chapped and cheeks are red
Hands are cold and toes are numb
The homeless long for spring to come
Then one day there is a dawn
That lifts the shroud and brings some warm
The grass is green and buds are peeping
From Mother Earth and her safekeeping
The stark landscape is slowly transformed
As if by a gifted artist’s hand
Trees are cloaked in every hue
Grey skies have been painted blue
The spring winds bring the blossom showers
On meadows daubed with smiling flowers
In the fields are new born lambs
In streets, new mothers pushing prams
The skies hold symphonies of song
Nights grow shorter, days are long
As flower petals are unfurled
So are the limbs in Cardboard World
The Earth has awakened from its sleep
Bringing hope to the people of The Street.
©Lorraine Surringer 2001
