Carl E. Feather, cottage weaver of words and images

carl@thefeathercottage.com / Geneva, Ohio, USA

Now that spring is here …

melting snow nourishes mud,

stubborn snow gives rise to fog,

ephemeral sunrise feigns warmth.

Now that spring is here …

hormones flow,

peepers peep,

breed in vernal pools.

Now that spring is here …

hand clasps hand, flesh on flesh

gloves gone, no pretenses,

the moon is pink.

Now that spring is here …

memories return

to that iron bench,

in Sue Ducro’s garden,

prayers under the moon,

pining hearts,

peeping peepers,

melting snow,

united hands,

flowing mud,

rising fog,

ephemeral promises,

to be together,

forever.

Now that spring is here …

tears nourish mud,

gone is the love,

of the winter

without snow,

melting under

the pink moon,

on the day we part

forever.