Monday, March 11, 2019

Late Winter Mourning

How
pressed and flat these days
how tight the mask of sun
while moon becomes
cold
the panes weighed down by a hopeless crown
while longing for the scent of Spring
this linen drapes loose
tattered wind takes the thread and lifts it to heaven's promise
nevermore to dance among stars & lovers
yet
yet ... what wonder lies in the lavender hours



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