It’s never darkest before dawn

It’s never at the darkest before dawn
(in summertime and now in Sweden).
And “now”, it’s me on my own again!

Yet, I’m happy it has come as far as
until April, though the meadows still
are dreary dead in beige. It’s the days
when spring moves slow, just before
all greenery explosively bursting out.

But the mornings are already bright
and there’s many hours of daylight
to blissful swim around in – before
next dusk. (But only think of him.)

All over the sunny coltsfoot sticks up
their heads as if they are trying to
cheer you up when you daring out for
a walk – sweaty in winter jacket, but
too chilly for a summer jacket.

But I can’t ignore the disgusting
piles of rotting, stinking dog poops
on the road sides. “What is hidden
in snow, comes forth in the thaw”,
the proverb say. (He disliked me
snorting in disgust over his dirt!)

And the flowering willows and all
the trees gives an instant need of
eye drops for pollen allergy (but –
I can’t help loving him anyway!)

I heard a few nights ago the swans
screaming as they flew nearby sky.
And when I looked out I saw how
a third swan tried to make a pass
at that pair who used to nest at
the pond nearby my house. (And
yes – I’m still jealous, even over!)

But the swan couple has already
sorted it out and built their new nest –
I discovered it and them too at my walk
yesterday. (Not a word from him and
yet we came so far we talked about it.)

It’ll be good when the whole fields of
white anemones conquers and cover it
all. I look forward the coming summer –
to fill my mind with other topics – not
all about him all the time. Yes, to forget
my tender feelings for him – “forever”.

“Forever”, bah! But we need rain now!

It darkens the minutes before the rains
comes. Sun will hide behind evil blue
clouds and birds silenced and hiding.
Even the magpies holds back – it feels
a bit chilly, it’s surely “cardigan time”.
(His warm embrace in memory.)

And I hurry to fetch the laundry hanging
out to dry in the garden. Well, it’s only in
my memory – I have no garden anymore.

It’s not at the darkest before the dawn –
no, it’s only darkest just before the worst
has happened. And my eyes cannot see
any dark, my ears hear the birds singing
carefree. I’m not cold and – and he comes
back to me! Because it is not over before
it’s over! And I know it’s not over yet!

it’s actually me April 24, 2011

This entry was posted in love poem, nature, poems, poems by vonnely, Poetry, with or without you and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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