Winter Spring

by Clive James and Pete Atkin

This is the way that winter says goodbye to spring
By whispering we will not meet this year
This year I will not see you flower or hear you sing

The time is over now, you could look back to me
And see the way the crocus cupped the snow
Part of the picture in your show of pageantry

The grass would not have been as green without the frost
The night prepares the splendour of the day
My hands were cold and now they're cold as cold can be
I fold them to my chest and turn away

This is the way that winter says goodbye to spring
By whispering we will not meet this year
This year I will not see you flower or hear you sing
Or taste the brilliance that you bring to everything

This meeting never happened. I was never here