winter’s end in the age of plague

a warm, golden

rippling blue

blue-yellow light

danced like a sprite

off the dulled, splintered

winter-worn window panes,

as stubbornly they opened

one by one,

onto the parched, dusty rooms


to gulp in the shimmer

& abundance of a misty

perfumed concoction

of salty

green grass

lilac & oxygen,

they filled brimming

with the sustenance

of springtime promises:

long, dark

withering winters

now but



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s