winds of change (Remove filter)
Wait for It
a thought came
twirling down
from a graying November tree,
one of the last to fall,
announcing,
'look at all my crusts of death,
and answer me.
--bipeds of clay,
do you doubt when
howling winds, ice, and snow
embalm
our root to rock,
that Spring will squeeze
out of us
baby buds again?
for each change
the wintertime will become warm,
the dark will lift,
the lawns will need a...
Sunday 21st March 2021 8:38 pm
Recent Comments
Landi Cruz on archon
1 hour ago
Marla Joy on grow
2 hours ago
Marla Joy on Favorite Poet
2 hours ago
Mike McPeek on Beacons
3 hours ago
Russell Jacklin on Unsure
8 hours ago
Stephen Atkinson on Just Smile!
9 hours ago
John Coopey on BLUE PLAQUE FOR YOUR MP
12 hours ago
Naomi on MARIGOLD
13 hours ago
AirlogRigsMaria on Gray Hair
14 hours ago
Red Brick Keshner on for the Unbroken
20 hours ago