by Howard Seeman
I look peeringly hard at the branches of the trees.
Finally, yes.
I was worried,
I do see little buds coming out.
I was afraid they wouldn’t come.
I am here again.
I have now gone through 69 winters,
and as these winters end,
I wait for those flowers
that danced for me,
and accompanied me on the side of my every walk
that then slowly withered and died…
to come again.
So many winters now
and so many springs.
So many that
I worry: maybe they are used up.
I am much more tired,
and more full of needing them to come again.
It is such a relief:
I was afraid they wouldn’t come.
Professor Emeritus, C.U.N.Y.; Life Coach at: E Coaching for Helping Professionals; Education Consultant on Classroom Problems at: Pro-Ed Media: Classroom Management Online; Published poet at: Howard Seeman’s Book of Poetry.