Day 16 — NaPoWriMo

Above the valley, grey and winter-tired,
skipping across the worn out landscape,
the sun reaches out, stretching from the west,
leaning over the lavender pools
cupping in his golden hand this rounded crest
a cheek glowing with love.
The blue hills waiting and waiting for spring
and this hill, lucky and favored,
spills light back to the sun
leaning towards the embrace
wishing the beloved would stay the night.