The love between them spills
Beyond the groves that divide
Like arms loosely tossed
Across an unmade bed, asleep.
It seeps deep, underneath
Triggering springs to uncoil
Popping to welcome the embrace
Of bodies afloat in the breeze.
This love between them wakes,
Erupts, bursting the brig
That crusty long-winded winter
Had parleyed over all, cruel
In its monotone, in its thrust
To sunder the bond between
The sprig, so green and tender,
And the nurturing, girding earth.
The Love between the Spring,
Arriving in just the nick
Of a winter’s dawdling print,
And the fields so ready, all
So ripe for a planting –
This love is loud, a magnet
That links Spring to fields
So tightly that a field remains
Unmade, until Spring’s touch
Tingles roots free to shoot
And makes men want to name
Homes and towns and places
Where love breeds what sons,
Springfield.
*As of 1983, there was a city or town named Springfield in 20 states of the United States. At that time, according to Rand McNally World Atlas, this was the most for any one name. In 2024, 34 states have a Springfield, but Riverside now surpasses Springfield as the most common name in more states.
Recent Posts
From Diplomat To Dissenter: Why I Protest Trump’s America
I love our country. I served as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Africa in the 1970s. I served as a Foreign Service Officer...
A Soul Set Free
The lines of Iranians formed early every day. Often they came straight from the airport. They would line up outside the American consulate...
A Cruel Season at the Bus Stop
The poem you’re about to read is not a quiet reflection—it’s a flare shot into the night. It emerges from a moment when...




