Dark sweet spring

Lost like the dogs on the hills, lost in a cloud of confusion, confused about the weather, waiting for the seasons to change, but the flowers always smell the same..
I recall my springs abroad, the flowers blooming, the magnificent cherry-trees, the honeysuckle strong smells...Don't cough! Don't sneeze!
the daisies and the yellow daffodils, growing happily in graveyards..the poppies in the field, war heroes my darling...
I remember the ducks quacking by the river, the swans protective of their nests, the black swan drowning the baby geese "leave my territory!" Ducklings jumping off the banks, making riddles in the water..and two males for one female, is this called duck rape?
All that I keep inside in my heart and the early misty mornings..I try not to think of the drownings..
I recall smelling the fresh air as I got out to buy the bread, birds twittering in the trees, old ladies walking with their bags on wheels..Fragile, but determined...They have won one more spring!
Memories of my youth..
But death is creeping everywhere..the flower shops sell their majestic chrisanthemums, perfect for a start to the spring.
The crypt is waiting for me, here's a family reunion, the flowers were changed already. I've come for a visit, a pleasant spring walk in the cemetary.Then we'll go for a bike ride.
How strange and morbid this season is for me...