A beckoning Spring played
with the afternoon. Dresssing it
with a clear sky, a sun,
benevolent with its shadows,
and a breeze to rustle leaves by.
Objecting crows, in melancholy,
called for the return of Winter
and prematurely, mulberries
were stolen by
Winter wizened sparrows.
The sun seared slowly withdrawing
the Spring from the afternoon
the winds played conspicuously
in the dark
and devilishly in the night.