A Panorama View photo could never capture
Not just one hundred and eighty degrees, but every dimension around me,
Every strip of shade from a tree or a sign pole
Every glint of light on the water
That tosses playfully, sparkling and refracting between the sailboats
.
No description can detail the feeling of the cool wind on my pale, prickly skin
The smell of water on the air
The background swishing of cars and the clanks of the T
.
No quick meter, short stanza, short poem
Can ever capture the infinite lightness, boundless freedom
Of the first “real run” of the spring
When your feet don’t hold your weight like a burden but bounce it back up,
And when even bare, gothically curling tree branches look fresh and new
And how wide swaths of mud are instantly forgotten at the sight of
That Single First Patch of New Green Grass
That first glimpse of New Life
That first New Breath
Annie Harvieux 