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Lea Starkind Poem
The untimed snow rushed insulted against the glassed shoulders on the poster,
and they were made of paper, they were bare…
It cried, scalded, on the painted, colorful faces,
and they were made of paper, they were bare…
Its outraged tears transformed into tears of joy,
and through them they were still smiling,
not caring for the bitter cold,
in defiance of the delayed spring,
Because they knew,
It could not wash away their colors,
It could not cover their bare shoulders.
Copyright © Lea Starkind | Year Posted 2025
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Details |
Lea Starkind Poem
The past is fiercely orange,
fluent in the language of the sunset.
The promises are vaguely gray
dumped in the expectations of tomorrow.
Not knowing to hope
or just to reflect
the unknown
sprouting in my soul...
Copyright © Lea Starkind | Year Posted 2025
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