At The Coming Of Spring

By Kate Camp

At this time I am sensitive to creaking
sudden falling limbs and the breaking up of rivers.

I go into the streets wearing a false beard
and dressed in the style of an orthodox Jew
leave bread at roadsides.

Ah ha! You say, slapping your forehead theatrically
that is why hopeful birds follow you
and mice take your steps as their trail.

That is not the reason, but it will do for the likes of you.

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