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Spring Is The Yearly Death of Hope
Spring is the yearly death of hope
When buds slowly open to kiss the air
The suspense of growth gives aching way
To the bright sunshine already there
Grass has sprung from hard grey ground
Ice thawed from limpid pools of blue
The birds’ refrain echoes so sweet
No need to hope for something new
March delights, desires of May,
The buds are bloomed; none’s left in store
Spring is the yearly renewal of life
Yet death of hope; why long for more?
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This poem is one of four poems about the seasons- if you enjoyed it, go read the others!