Spring ritual Tom Sharp

Since the winds of spring haven’t entered our gates, I ride out with a friend to look for the signs. We ride to a village that we visited last year. We’re like wild geese, returning each season, coming and going like dreams, leaving only a trace. After three cups of wine, I’m warm and happy. We can do this every year; no need to ever stop.

正月二十日与潘、郭二生出郊寻春,忽记去年是日同至女王城作诗,乃和前韵 苏轼

东风未肯入东门,走马还寻去岁村。 人似秋鸿来有信,事如春梦了无痕。 江城白酒三杯酽,野老苍颜一笑温。 已约年年为此会,故人不用赋招魂。