A tree blooms flowers and its petals fall
After much silence, the Spring gently calls
With hopes of color and whispers of warmth
The ducks and the geese make their way north
The rest of the flock find their way home
Filling the air with their glorious song
The morning frost covers the green
As all place hope in the things unseen
A storm steals the light and cuts through the day
Raging with thunder and all shades of grey
Howling with force, the wind isn’t done
It wrestles the air until all breath is spun
The sun bursts forth in a yellow hue
Promising the life that it once withdrew
Colors dance as the birds sing
Rejoicing together in the new Spring
About the Creator
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The Light Turns
It's Tuesday 7:13 a.m. A cold and clear November morning awaits Ray on his morning commute. Ray rubs his hands together in the front seat of his Subaru. He turns the air temperature up, but keeps the air on low until the air warms up. He looks at the backup camera screen and reverses the Subaru out of his driveway onto Trimble Road.
By John R. Godwin4 days ago in Fiction
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