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An Awful Surprise
Some Mimosa trees are still bare,
such a deep sadness they declare;
lethargy is another form of bitter sobriety...
when sorrow looms amid spectacular beauty!
Luke after school assumes it's some April's fool...
remembering their yellow and bright blossoms,
will they be cut down and replaced with flowers?
He'll wear shades in the sweltering summer's heat,
sunglasses of black and blue and look very cool:
often he reads a book and falls asleep underneath!
Friends can be people or anything,
it's an awful surprise when they don't sing;
we like cheerful people, we like true joy...
spring is harmony, winter is monotony!
Any tree not fed by the soil will die,
we rely on the heartbeat to stay alive;
sheesh, our hair turns gray while leaves get golden!
They'll sprout again, we perish and can't return!
Copyright ©
Andrew Crisci
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