Spring Skylark Poem by C Richard Miles

A single skylark skitters
Through spring skies still
Splintered whisker thin by
Some lumpy clumps
Of humped cumulus.

Aloft, above them, fleeting,
Ice-white silk sheets
Of wispy cirrostratus
Veil their vexed threats of
Rain ahead tomorrow.

Sorrow palls and pales
In this pre-Easter evening:
Who could be gloomy
Under such a piled-high sky
That still breathes blue?

Since last sharp shards
Of sunset flitter with
The soaring skylark
No sullen aftertaste of winter
Scars the fresh-wet fields.

For everything begins
Think of things of spring
That rushes ever faster,
Pulse by pulse, that thrusts us
Onwards up to summer.