The Promise of Spring

When my hair was tied in two tails I frolicked about the warped trunk of a willow As the cicadas serenaded in the summer’s heat The tree held me in its low arms I watched nature pulse I tasted nothing but joy in those days Capable of comprehending nothing but euphoria Jade orbs gazed through rounded windows perched atop my nose At nature bleeding hues of yellow and red The willow was a stunning cadmium to match the craft that took me away from it every morning The craft would transport me to an alien world Here I was an ashen duckling among daffodil chicks Who marched in line with them but would never fit their puzzle Dancing seas of anticipation Gazed through a porthole thirty-thousand feet above the land Far from my willow back home Colorful ants scurried through paved corridors Their destination I will never know A fraction of a day spent before arriving in paradise Our slate craft ferried us across the crimson bridge To a frigid shore To a community of boats and potted plants To stone monuments that dwarf the largest breathing creatures To conifers the size of skyscrapers A hug’s expanse could not surround the trunks of these giants Now vacant spheres stare through the window Lungs fill and deflate, heart pulses Numbed mind Yet still living A girlish figure has melted to porcelain curves Porcelain white to harmonize with the feathery puffs descending outside the window Pallid digits trace invisible figures on the cold glass The willow’s painted leaves have long been gone Buried far beneath winter’s glass and delicate veil The winter is long and lonesome The epitome of sunless silence Obsidian clouds meet ivory snow; the world plunges into a monochromatic stillness But the numbness of winter refuses to last for an eternity Its grip will soon be broken by The promise of spring

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017



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