Its Part by Ed Hack

Its Part

The trees await the wind, the grass the light
and shadows that it brings, the sky, the birds’
swift, acrobatic flights, and we the bright
attention of our love before a word
is said. On coldest days of ice and snow,
the world a hermitage of winter rest,
when trees strip down to bone and rivers slow,
love has made a freezing room a nest.
And here it is, at last, the spring, though sun
is fickle as a doubting mind. Yet blue,
the soul’s sweet cloak, has now at last begun
to show up almost every day, renew
our spirit’s hope, the veteran old heart’s
deep dream that love will always play its part.

by Ed Hack

Editor’s Note: Sonnets come in many flavors, but this poem’s classic ode to both love and the seasons will soothe even the most jaded of readers.


3 responses to “Its Part by Ed Hack”

  1. Ed Hack Avatar
    Ed Hack

    The title is “Its Part.”



    Sent from my iPad


    1. Christine Klocek-Lim Avatar

      Ed, my apologies. I think autocorrect attacked me so stealthily that I didn’t notice. It’s fixed now. -Christine

  2. Lucie Winborne Avatar
    Lucie Winborne

    This is lovely!

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