winter silhouettes
a copse of sailboat masts cut
from the dawning sky
Petrichor
angry thunderclouds
lurking on the horizon
heavy with cold rain
–
summer afternoon-
the scent of rain
fills the air
Renewal
ashes of the past
the land stoic and patient
awaiting rebirth
–
robins gather-
the old gardener
tends to his seedlings
Running
age pierces my side-
gasping as my youth runs out
between my fingers
–
crying crows-
my chest heaving at
mile marker two
Love
you’re my cinnamon
my sugar, salt, my pepper
the spice in my life
–
open windows-
a cool breeze
tousles your hair
Trapped
trapped by bitter cold
prison bars of leafless trees
holding me steadfast
–
spring snow-
steaming tea
fogs the window
Wind
the wind whips and snarls
down across the galleries
with malice at heart
–
whispering pines-
deep in conversation
with the trees
Detritus
washing off the day
a trail of discarded clothes
strewn out behind her
–
disturbed reverie-
on my journey
an empty snake skin
Deluge
one final look back
collar turned up against the
horizontal rain
–
spring peepers-
the rain of snare drums
on the forest floor
Petrichor
angry thunderclouds
lurking on the horizon
heavy with cold rain
–
summer afternoon-
the scent of rain
fills the air
Renewal
ashes of the past
the land stoic and patient
awaiting rebirth
–
robins gather-
the old gardener
tends to his seedlings
Running
age pierces my side-
gasping as my youth runs out
between my fingers
–
crying crows-
my chest heaving at
mile marker two
Love
you’re my cinnamon
my sugar, salt, my pepper
the spice in my life
–
open windows-
a cool breeze
tousles your hair
Trapped
trapped by bitter cold
prison bars of leafless trees
holding me steadfast
–
spring snow-
steaming tea
fogs the window
Wind
the wind whips and snarls
down across the galleries
with malice at heart
–
whispering pines-
deep in conversation
with the trees
Detritus
washing off the day
a trail of discarded clothes
strewn out behind her
–
disturbed reverie-
on my journey
an empty snake skin
Deluge
one final look back
collar turned up against the
horizontal rain
–
spring peepers-
the rain of snare drums
on the forest floor
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