It is Spring – Melanie MacLennan

I will spoon-feed you peaches

I’m a 19 year old Literature student from the Highlands trying to fall back in love with writing and words.

It is Spring

If there is still a life

to be grasped at,

then Spring will 

bring it to back

to you.

If there is still

a ragged breath somewhere

inside of that 

chest,

then I will nurse 

it quietly into a song.

I will tuck you in

and I will water you.

I will spoon-feed you peaches

and love

and open up the windows

again.

I will change the sheets.

I will keep you safe

until your suffering

falls asleep.

I will bring flowers

to the grave of 

the person

that you were,

before you were

somebody that is really,

really

sick.

It is Spring and I 

know that you think

that you’re dying.

It is Spring and 

the April light is still madly

in love with your

delicate hairless

head, your

veins still

furiously alive beneath

tender skin pumping

drugs that will

break you before 

they will build you.

Your sticky honey

hands still clenching mine;

your child. I am your child.

Your child.

On the worst days,

I will bring you entire

gardens of growth.

I will show you how 

the earth unwraps itself

every single year to reveal

fresh layers of hope.

Listen, I know.

I know that you want

to die with dignity,

that you

want to write the profound 

letters and sink

softly into the sky.

There’s no dignity

in digging yourself 

an early grave.

There’s no dignity

in leaving me behind.

It is Spring and I 

know that you think 

that you’re dying.

But the birds fly quietly

through the clean blue air.

They come back home 

again and weep

with joy and relief for

their matted wings,

and all of the

different places that there are

in the world.

And you watch them

up there,

in their small arrow formation,

from the dirty old window

beside sick bowls

and needles

and you laugh with amazement. 

You laugh because you’re

still alive to see the 

birds coming home.

It is Spring

and the grass has 

never been this long.

The bees never so excited.

The sky’s bursting

and the plants are 

singing, loud

and gentle.

It is Spring.

It is Spring,

and you still have

so much

growing to do.


By Melanie Maclennan

Did you enjoy this poem? Why not visit Maggie’s website at: Maggie’s Centre Nottingham to find out more about their exceptional work and/or make a donation. Do you have a poem you would like to submit to Voices? Feel free to do so by email at: voicespoetry@outlook.com or via the ‘Contact’ page on this site.

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