The first spring shower
falls on a Midwestern inner-city,
as ghosts of April’s past
ascend again from crumbling streets.
In the suburbs,
the offspring catch the scent
remember the grandparents’ dreams.
Back on main street
the ancient oaks still standing guard,
are given new life
and forsaken houses are reborn,
in the water's relentless purity.
With the rain
fresh buds are born again
in a long forgotten backyard
where in summer
our grandparents’ barbequed with the neighbors
On this rainy spring day
the downpour washes away winter’s solitary memory,
and hope spirals recklessly out of control
and we remember eternity.