March …

Our contract with the clocks was reset by order of the president.
He says he talks to G-d. Or does he say; “-with G-d.” …

“-at G-d.”…? I don’t quite recall it exactly. Meanwhile,
we go in and out.

We walk up and down,

waiting patiently for spring to remove our coats.

The new green reminds us each of something different.

Some of us still pray.

Some of us can’t.

Some of us won’t.

We all have our reasons.

By perennial we mean – survivor of all four seasons.

Everyone knows and is afraid to say.

Conversations about the weather become strained but they are
all so well practiced we carry on with them just like before.

More enquiries than ever are made about reincarnation.

Things are not as they seem; meanwhile others disagree.

Wait for things to happen. Wait for things not to happen.

These days, there’s a line-up for something, everywhere you go.

In the dream I had, all the writing on the walls made sense and
everything turned out alright.

But I can’t remember what happened before that.