It lays plainly in
the middle of the sea
not an ocean of blue
but green
And if you don't
look carefully
you might not notice
a thing
But there amongst
the winter grown weeds
late February
wind-blown carpet
An orange beacon
on an otherwise arctic
steel cold day
clouds of grey
A tawny spot of hope
one slight spring flower
will winter devour
a season changing trope
No comments:
Post a Comment