The trees are greening,
Buds are swelling,
And birds are rejoicing
In gentle winds
And cloudless skies.

New life is forming
And pushing out
Of moist, brown earth.
Daffodils and crocuses
Reaching toward the sun.

The world is shaking free
Of winter's grip
And being renewed
By sunshine
And gentle rains.

But here...
I sit
Under foreign stars
And watch a dieing year
Wane with the moon.


Popular posts from this blog

Legacy: Lessons Learned from Some Women in My Life

Location Challenge; Tour de Chappa

Let the Words Out; On Finding My Voice in a New Place