It is May
        I have missed
        half of this spring

        You bring it to me now
        with a sleepless night

        At two I am reading
        troubadour poetry

        At three I hear
        a bird singing
        sad yet hopeful riffs

        At four I am consumed
        with hunger
        so I light the kitchen
        searching for a snack
        but it is you
        I am seeking

        At five birds again
        seagulls flying over
        on their way to the park
        but it is you
        who sails above my bed

        As the trees throw off their shadows
        flowers appear beneath them

        Now I see this spring
        you have brought to me

© Bob Rixon