April Anthology 2016: sunshine in "the rabbit park"

Pale and clear and new

Below the hill,

I’ve watched you coming

To announce the day.

I’ve held my father’s hand and felt a thrill

As your pink and yellow banners banish gray.

But sometime in the noon I’d like to come

On a picnic or a lark,

Holding hands with friend or love,

When the air is bright and blazing blue

And there’s no trace of dark,

And bask in the warmth of your eye above.

Or in the evening I could tread alone

Among deep shadows tiger-striping gold,

And drink the light which gilds both tree and stone,

And wait on that hill for the day to grow old,

The moon to show a face of bone.