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 A nothing from nowhere cast his words to a world wide wind, and got in your eye. |
| Out The Bay Window, We Roam Where wildflowers will wander, yet unknown. Sun streams and chills chase a winter room, ending gloom. In recliner, fully cocked, renewal absorbed. A chick yellow-hatched, hides within the white lamb. The good sun seeks another yard. On padded plane, I dream a lad spring clad, weatherproof rubbers, and mad. In a crush, murk-brown vaults eternally splashed. Frozen time glistens a reflection fading fast. Safe signaled, dry eyes toss up the sash. Cardinal and blue jay flit to and fro, feather from feeder, as felines watch below. Screened fragrance flows freely within. Dust-lungs deep inhale, exhale soft memory of the lost, sweet and youthful. A panorama once a haze, now a glint of hued blaze. No clouds clasp a quiet horizon sunken deep. Bones seep in sinew of this quiet regeneration. 16 lines, free-flowing, free verse 3.22.22 3.28.22 major edit Abridged, edited from this month's epic output on Spring: "Invalid Entry"  |
Wrote this one month after joining WDC, 15 1/2 years ago.
How much have I grown as a writer? |
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Great poem, Brian.
Dreams feel good though. Thanks for posting this one, Brian 
