NPM: When spring comes again
When spring comes again
Maybe she won't find me in the world anymore.
Now, I like being able to think Spring is a person
So I can imagine she'll cry,
When she sees she's lost her only friend.
But the Spring isn't even a thing:
She's a manner of speaking.
Even the flowers don't come back, or the green leaves.
There are new flowers, new green leaves.
There are other beautiful days.
Nothing comes back, nothing repeats itself, because everything is real.
--Alberto Caiero
Labels: poetry
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