The winter lifted quite a while ago
But there was nothing here to take its place.
The flowers were not ready yet to grow
Nor did the sun desire to show his face.
The only green was from the needle trees
Which always shine their best when other die;
They swayed quite gently in the winter breeze
But in this in-between time they just sigh
And wait for others to rejoin their state.
So all of nature wonders what to be
And how to be it; I, in meantime, wait
For you to look across and notice me,
And when you do, then spring has come at last
It flickers with your smile, just as fast.
No comments:
Post a Comment