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