Well into April, the morning
is light pouring up from wet ground,
shining as tall ancient trees
which shone out silver and gold
across a newer world.
Now these lesser trees, though leafless
gleam bright in slanted day.
The willows glittering gold
above the cherries’ and maples’
ephemeral attire so bright
I have thus to shade my eyes.
Turning about in the warm spring day
remembering all the glory past
without speaking the ineffable names.
Seeking?
The Quote Box
When you see a thing clearly in your mind, your creative “success mechanism” within you takes over and does the job much better than you could do it by conscious effort or “willpower.
— Maxwell MaltzThe Cat Cam
Travels to NZ
20 Years of 30 poems in 30 days!
Randomness
Categories
The Archives
Subscribe to Blog via Email
Join 24 other subscribers
Pingback: NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day Twenty-Four |
The start of this poem grabbed me!
“Well into April, the morning/
is light pouring up from wet ground,”
My brain won’t let it go . . . :)
Great! Thank you!
Mom loves this one too. Nice time together last night.