Forgotten

The spring air smells of a long forgotten song
I feel its rhythm in the breeze
Now strong, now fast, then abruptly gone
Then again, my mind is seized

Of a snatch of melody, seen in the grass
But then, once more it leaves
My mind to wander, to try to grasp
This curious disease

The budding trees, their tempo taunting
Does little to appease
I wrack my mind, no use it's gone!
And the smallest part of me dies