Up Anchored
The ice has boiled over,
sludge trudge paddles its way
through the muddy day.
Willow trees dream in the melt,
we open windows
to watch the damp sky dry.
Child-hearts are lifting,
their small boats
turning to great sailing ships
for the survivors of sadness.
Wave we as the world passes by.
Fly a flag and be.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2022
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