Like the First Day
colorful birds burst
from hidden places
among the branches
soar across the water
hover to savor
and absorb
all that they see:
showering joy . . .
unbeknownst
to them.
Waiting . . .
. . . waiting for bare branches to bear delicate leaves for fluctuating ice to become “Ice Out!” for shy shaded snows to boldl...
-
I am waiting for you. Where do you wait? In Florida with retirees? South along the Gulf of Mexico? All the way home to sunny Mexico? Is anyo...
No comments:
Post a Comment