Perhaps it will be spring today
perhaps the sky will be blue

and the breeze gentle if at all
Perhaps I’ll see the first butterfly

of the year flitting from flower
to flower or the first bee clinging

to the petals of a bright red rose
Perhaps the sun will raise

a sweat on my forehead
or on my far too pale forearms

now bared to the elements
Perhaps I’ll hear the rowdy

laughter of wild children playing
or the sound of mowers

mowing neighbourly lawns
and maybe in the early afternoon

the familiar tang of badly charred
meat will drift through the balm

and whet my appetite for a life
that just isn’t the same without her

John Lyons

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