Spring Poem by James McLain

About the light changing, 'is it different or is it spring?
Like the copper tone a baby passed, so pale in need, sun light.
By the hand held by her mother, walking 'talking bye.
Tell me, the year and write the her difference out to me,
and come sun my, days their each duration.
March at last being here, to the very soul, about it's color
science knows the feel, science knows my need of which
the lonely wait upon my skin, so it may spring out again.
Winters night, is mornings noon 'for summers open door.
It intercedes for us, it is less restricted, like the trees leaves
our clothing we need less.
About air quality less stale the effects of our consensual,
as it comes alive to give to her once more.
Trade winds across the waves and water seems less cold
when she finally comes I ask,
infiltrate us, your help that blows us clean, 'is past and suddenly.