Spring. Spring like asparagus is unabashed. Cherry blossoms, too, are -- without apology -- short lived. Even light (though pressed to admit) is short lived. And yes, light is predictable as night will speak its name. Poems like salads, are seasonal, predictable. And if you haven't noticed -- unabashed.
IOS
ReplyDeleteShe walked the halls as if in a castle
that ;are and often empty house which held us
with such grandeur
Cannot see the faded wallpaper
the scratched up floors
the dust and dirt and flour on the floor
When playing behind the tables
one catches the falling shells of peas
and the occasional blueberries
meant for pies--
how I wish to be back there
in my dark and tangled innocence
held up by mysteries and midnight calls