Spring has come back old,
with petal skin over her veins
limping and lost upon our roads,
needing some help to find her way,

and yet with blueness peering out
and roses spilled across her feet,
asking the passersby just how
she came to dwell upon these streets.

Spring comes geriatric
through the sterile gray of halls;
yet I rejoice to be the plastic
doll she warms between her arms.

Zetetic separator

—Emily R. Frankenberg was born in Princeton, New Jersey but has been living in Seville, Spain since 2006. She writes in both Spanish and English and her work has appeared in various publications from the United States, Spain, and Colombia.

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