Virgin Seasons

  So here we are,

Spring flirting with us

Into the last week

Of April,

Like some of the

 Sweet strangers

On MySpace,

That mystical mysterious

Masquerade that was

Until a billionaire

 Blew it up,

That place that Facebook

And the new come alongs

Will never capture,

Back to spring,

If it doesn’t get

Its clothes off soon

It will be summer and

Spring two-thousand twelve

Will be relegated to the annals

Of virgin seasons,

Seasons that never

Were.

Stephen Nesbitt ©

From “Spring Into Summer” www.StrangersAndPoetry.com

5:02 PM April 26, 2012

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