After a fifty degree day in Michigan February,
(The groundhog said it must be spring.)
it dips back into the familiar freezing,
and all the leaves uncovered from snow
start the morning sparkling.
Tag: nature
Stephanie
She mows her lawn reluctantly,
by hand, lets the wildflowers
grow. Despite her neighbors.
The flowers attract a stranger,
like a butterfly or a bee
to her front door. She opens it
and learns a story.
Frost
The season changes,
and so do I.
There is frost
one morning
on the windshield.
No. Only fog,
wearing frost’s color.
City Perspective
Can’t see the forest for
there is none
