Fool
a poem about this most liminal season
March roared himself out in a thunderstorm last night, very flashy
and now April creeps in bashful, asking if it's her turn on the wheel yet.
It is spring, perhaps. Wind moves in odd ways over borderlands, kicks up
dust and tempers. In this deiced morning I am painfully earnest:
a raw nerve under red-cheeked sun. I extend my curling green hand
to test the air, to gamble no frost will touch me now. A fool.
About the Creator
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Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
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Compelling and original writing
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Easy to read and follow
Well-structured & engaging content
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Zero grammar & spelling mistakes
Comments (18)
Nice
"Totally agree!"
Nice one dear, congratulations on top story 👏🏼
this poem is a real banger. such rich and strong language as if we're talking about devils. Great Job and congrats!!!
Lovely. Weather is crazy. Started cold, windy and mow it’s hot windy.
Congratulations 🎉👏 on the top story 🙏
🎉🎊 Congratulations on achieving Top Story! 🏆✨ So well deserved! 🙌👏 Your talent shines through every word! 🖋️💫 Keep inspiring and soaring to new heights! 🚀🌟 🥳🎈💐 Way to go!
The curling, green hand is such a verdant image!
Beautiful piece! Congrats on Top Story!
Beautiful launguage. Feels as fresh as the season.
Very clever! Love it.
Love the opening personifications! Such a beautiful poem on the precipice of spring!
Oh this is gorgeous... I've missed your writing!
Beautifully written, Suze!
Beautiful and vivid Suze 🌱🌸
We have cherry & crab apple trees in full bloom right now. Though admittedly, we did not have any storms yesterday on March 31st, just a brief one today. Almost as though Mother Nature was playing her own little April Fool's joke on us.
My curling green hand reminds me of fern fiddle heads unfurling. Lovely and fragile poem, like early spring, Suze.
this is great, Suze. <3