The leaves have come.
I woke up this morning and looked out the window
beyond my writing desk and the dull lighted lamp
in the early morning first light
no sun
thunder somewhere not far
damp thick air.
The young leaves in their first day
are like neon green paint dabbles against a dull grey backdrop.
Lush. Fresh. Wet. Quiet. Still. Momentary. Like new love before
raindrops that were always there
appear in the space between us.
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