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A Made Spring Apr. 21, 2002 ] 11:20 PM Sometimes you wish to hold me And sometimes it seems unfair That I shy away and you touch the air And watch the leaves tremble when I watch the hurt that blooms in Your eyes when you think I not care. But sometimes, you know that I Love you but just remember the past, The man I allowed who stripped me bare Of all the green shoots, leaving only The scarred trunk of empty grasping hands Whose barkless body feels too much Interpretes too little and wishes That spring never came or should have Arrived later. But maybe this winter of Deepening roots is far better than A giddy spring or a pleasant summer. Because you know you can coax The next season of spring and You know that such a made spring Is far sweeter than anything. wax ] wane