I don’t remember in years past,
28 days and lavender trees,
Perhaps time is fast-forwarding,
Like the VCRs we used to play?
Are the sands slipping through the sieve so fast that they seem to pile up again?
Perhaps the clock is running and the seasons can’t catch up,
Or maybe it’s the inverse,
Nature strains at the reigns,
The blossom is hasty,
Time takes it slow,
It’s only February but Spring is here,
A vernal prematurity,
Or perhaps an accelerated hour,