It's Spring Again

The smell of Spring,

the hawk that cries,

washes away

all of last years lies.

The quiet home,

its empty spaces,

love is filled

in all its places.

But the thing we want

and the thing we need

aren't always available

for you and for me.

Last years hopes

and last years prayers,

said in a whisper

carried in the Spring air.

And now as the hawk cries,

she tells me she knows,

the empty crib, the empty nest,

yet our hope grows.