poetry & things

Spring skies

This valley, belly and backboned

a blanket of snow – stitched and gone

textured trees, willows wind blown

here where an early moon heaven still hovers

here amid the last smoking sky of cold

a chirping of morning birds unfolds

singing a gleeful goodbye to the moon night

winging before the sunrise

the blooming of daffodil springtime

and too, wisteria tangled vines will climb

reach for the calm of violet skies.

Post navigation
Scroll to top