Spring
A Work in Progress
117
Once again, her rosy fingers touched Donal’s cheek
Fifty-three years married expected to speak
Once again, Briseis enhaloed his white hair
His task more urgent now he stood up from his chair
With age comes economy of movement
Greater understanding of what was always known
How the April sun climbs the cedar trees east of our house
To slant rays across our rooftop
How each day now the sun climbs higher
So that each day now we see better
See what dark menace comes
To stand between us and the sun
Trump must do a Nixon
Jet off to his estate
Congress must tell him he’s been fired
The Cabinet could oust him should they dare
But those controlling him are getting their share
Milking the markets because Trumps do too
Enabling an old man like Asimov’s The Mule
A mutant controlling people’s emotion
A chaos maker forever causing commotion
Forever seeking to be the story
World conqueror Trump
Followed by evangelicals awaiting Armageddon
Enabled by fantasists all people he’s led on
Flowers long lasting in the long cold spring
Red tinged tulips appearing while daffodils age
Bedraggled by rain then wind and more rain again
But still bold bright yellow though holed by slugs
Trumpeting defiance
We had the time of our lives when we were young
Today and tomorrow, and yesterday too
I’m still in sync with everything you do.
Dick Russell © Richard M Russell
2026
