"Let the withered mind know

a second springtime."

   ~ Uncle Meridian 

the tulip gardens of lincoln park

will soon be coming into bloom

how well i remember those days

those sweet days when the air was soft

the scent of spring on the march breeze

the last snow finally gone, the sounds and sights—

the shouts and laughter of baseball

the first kites, jump ropes, hopscotch, roller skates—

it seems mythical—it is no different now

just a different cast of villains in the news

parents still take their kids to the park

lovers and others still stroll

senses are still attuned, awakened—

how different can it be, it is primal