A Spring Day
Once upon a spring arcadian green
a last veil winter hoar melts on the bud -
Romney low country lambs fattened to wean
chew in flocks upon the ruminant cud.
In stone moss stream, wild aromatic grass,
the sleeping flower does the thaw invite
but an ancient blood moon shall come to pass
on the shadows of day and dark of night.
Soon its muster will shatter a false peace
in cornucopia of beast and bloom -
nigh the yard gates will fill with milky fleece
and only finest wool spin on the loom.
On the altar of this season’s new day
so a spring offering is born a prey.
Written: August 1989
Copyright © Keith D Trestrail | Year Posted 2022
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