Sunlight drifts from the sky
sparrows and prairie gulls,
settle and grow quiet ~
cheered by the warm spring.
Caught up in such openness,
with doors wide; pottering and puttering inside and out made a minute out of 12 hours.
Leaves and flowers have yet to make their entrance, yet it is the drying puddles, the disappointed and
shrunken snowbanks that signal a prairie spring. Until now,
sleepy and content, I am penning
these few words before days end.
“Spring won’t let me stay in this house any longer!
I must get out and breathe the air deeply again.”
~ Gustav Mahler
No comments:
Post a Comment