Spring
A poem by Michael Hawkes
As one looks up through budding leaves
It’s hard to think of poisoned air,
Then dazzled by the blue beyond
It’s hard to entertain despair.
With bluebells blooming at one’s feet
Where yesterday the hoar frost lay,
One can’t imagine global heat
Could damage spring in any way.
As cardinals call with resolution,
Confident they’ll win a mate,
One can’t believe that foul pollution
May clamp and seal the songbird’s fate.
Having seen such fine perfection
Preceded many times before,
One just assumes, without reflection,
It will be so for evermore.
18/5/24 – Hawkes
Feature image: Artur Łuczka on Unsplash
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[/col][col size=”10″]Michael Hawkes was a cherished poet and contributor whose work enriched the pages of WestmountMag.ca with its sensitivity and depth. Over the years, he entrusted us with a rich body of poems, of which only a portion has yet been published. His passing leaves a profound void, but the poems still to come will continue inspire all who were moved by his voice.[/col][/row]
This poem should make everyone pause and reflect.