Sunday, September 29, 2013

Sunday Poem: Snow Flower


Yesterday it was Spring.
The flowers grew.

Tomorrow snow falls.
Ice forms over
tree limbs, and I
hang from a noose like
a child's tire swing.

The wind blows.
The leaves rustle
across my toes,
bare feet pressed
into the dirt.

I live somewhere between
the flowers and the
flurries, flying flakes
like water fossils.

My skin is soft, I'm made
of petals, pink roses
with thorns.

My vines are afraid
of tomorrow.

HT

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