"Spring´s pardon comes, a sweetening of the air,
the light made fairer by an hour, time
as forgiveness, granted in the murmured colouring
of flowers, rain´s mantra of reprieve, reprieve, reprieve.
The lovers waking in the lightening rooms believe
that something holds them, as they hold themselves,
within a kind of grace, a soft embrace, an absolution
from their stolen hours, their necessary lies. And this is wise:
to know that music's gold is carried in the frayed purse
of a bird, to pick affection´s herb, to see the sun and moon
half-rhyme their light across the vacant, papery sky.
Trees, in their blossoms, young queens, flounce for clemency"
(by Carol Ann Duffy, in the book Rapture, 2005, Picador)
