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Early March Walk
I'm walking the streets
In my quiet neighborhood.
The mid 70 degree air
Is humid and thick
On my face.
Shoots of mild green
Erupt from the grey branches
Of every tree I pass.
"Fresh green shoots of hope"
An eager poet might say.
I'm always so dormant.
And I will probably
Miss it all.
© All Rights Reserved
In my quiet neighborhood.
The mid 70 degree air
Is humid and thick
On my face.
Shoots of mild green
Erupt from the grey branches
Of every tree I pass.
"Fresh green shoots of hope"
An eager poet might say.
I'm always so dormant.
And I will probably
Miss it all.
© All Rights Reserved
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