jump to navigation

Spring Isn’t Here January 4, 2008

Posted by vsap in Poetry, Uncategorized.
trackback

Spring isn’t here, no surprise, its quicksilver wings that glide

make a path for the sledders who slide, leave cadence for lovers who abide.

Their faces, their lips, they cannot be mine as words are useless to describe

the essence of this moment, you deride, and I reach for the pills you prescribe.

It is bitter to the taste, but you claim its sweet, fools can’t tell copper from gold

and I guess it’s true, as I’m growing old, I more reserved, much less bold.

Spring isn’t here, no surprise, its bluebirds and robins try to hide

waiting out for warmth of sunnyside and absent those siblings having died.

You like walking this path when the winter strips everything bare

and I tell you I can’t go there but you insist, and so we are an odd pair.

Advertisements

Comments»

No comments yet — be the first.

Leave a Reply

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

WordPress.com Logo

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

Twitter picture

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

Facebook photo

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

Google+ photo

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

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: