Monday, August 25, 2008

before the myrtle

there was no hope or salvation
then forsythia shone, alive
her olive branches extended
saying all is well

her harbinger the first showing
heralding the dawn
with her weeping boughs
introducing the sun again

to capture her slow descent
and sweeping beauty
before the blue-violet, Vinca
steals the light from the sky

a prelude to longer hotter days
reflected, though short-lived
returning the will and spirit
to every eye drawn their way


0 comments: