Spring

From this window I can see spring
Coiled shoots bouncing in the breeze
And the unlikely green
Of new new leaves
And blinding white walls
Washed by liquid sun

In this world
Where the few rule by the gun
For the sake of money
And have the gall to call it democracy
While the rest live in misery
Dark horror and mindless poverty
Rwanda, Somalia, Haiti -
In this world I’m glad of mercies;

I’m glad
Of my dark-eyed lover clad in his skin
And I’m glad
For the memory of you
on a winter afternoon
Your body like these sun-soaked walls

I’m glad to my core for the coming of spring
And for riots, strikes, uprisings
For people fighting to be human again.