reposting from 2018


almost close enough to touch

out in this barren land

where the song of the whistling robin

is muffled by damp and cold


these last vestiges of winter linger

as I fall to my knees and pry loose

petals captured by early April snow

earthen clay clings to my chapped skin


is it no wonder that I take secret pleasure

in outwitting this frozen heart

I push aside decaying leaves in dormant trees

to reveal a nest of fragile blue eggs


I celebrate rebirth in a quiet corner of the yard

by the fire pit that no longer burns

and listen to the unmaking of a dream

that is eternal winter

photos: mine


prompts: The Sunday Whirl, Poetic Asides PAD Challenge, #NaPoWriMo2018, MLMM Sunday Writing Prompt


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