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Circadian Arcadias

 

Zeitgeber light. All our green clocks

begin to whirr. Molecular tick, protein tock.

 

Spring rises from within, endogenous

rhythmic shifts, a secret tic

 

released by light. Bare branches, blind,

see sun’s change. The inner talk

 

of cryptochrome and melanopsin, rise and fall

of cycles, dawn to dusk, root to tip.

 

April’s relentless pastorale. Caragana buds

ruff out, silver lambs. Sparrow cross-talk.

 

Even through the icy nights, ice wants to melt

from within. Water’s constant drip and tick.

 

Et in Arcadia ego. Spring’s alarm sounds brng…

brng…  Bring your dead sticks and stalks.

 

Time will bury them in green.

 

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