whose spring, whose season

whose spring, whose season
who shed this green upon my icycoldwintry
who trespassed upon my sanctum safe and
white
who dared paint leaves upon my
twining stretching clawing sculptures of
empty and depravity and
all that which is a string around my finger
for the deep sky red whose healing anger replaces the
solemn candles i’ve lit in the night
whose birds have stolen my calm
whose humans have stolen my silence
which feelings have stolen my peace
whose anjels are these who’ve died and fallen into my backyard
harps clenched tightly in red-speckled white hands
and where is the snow which might’ve hidden this from mortal eyes
where is the blizzard of forgetfulness
the comfort of cool salvation
the release of stalactite anger
whose spring has disrupted my peak
my extreme
my finalization
my answers
whose flowers threw a conundrum into my equation
whose season shook my mind upside down