I’ve been lost for days, among leaves of a certain kind, leafing through four previous books and comparing the words with those on screen. Attending to the weighty task of Digital Conversion (which means turning printed books to e-books), and feeling the pinch, the loss of the sensuous experience, colour, good design and the reliable formatting of poems.

Aah; it was time to break out, to seek leaves of a different kind.

I went for a walk, and spring was singing through the air,

 with an upward thrust of greening, filling out the empty spaces,
 shining waxen with newness,
 or delicate, yet emphatically tracing patterns on the sky,
 bursting into unexpected colour
 and frothing like candy floss,
 and my spirits lifted with the bursting twigs, 
the leaves of spring, in all their myriad forms. 
Lost amongst the green, lost in the leaf-filled sky, lost in the joy of the season.