The afternoon is bright,
with spring in the air,
a mild March afternoon,
with the breath of April stirring,
I am alone in the quiet patio
looking for some old untried illusion -
some shadow on the whiteness of the wall
some memory asleep
on the stone rim of the fountain,
perhaps in the air
the light swish of some trailing gown.
- Antonio Machado, 1875-1939
Selected Poems, # 3, Translated by Alan S. Trueblood
Time is one apricot blossom.
Space, a bee.
The Universe, honey.
And, the Goddess of Spring?
8:12:00 AM 
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