Sweet apple blossoms scent the sky,
Yet a few towns down, fires blaze high.
The scent of fresh fallen rain,
And the fear of a drough once again.
I feel spring in the air,
Her beautiful rebirth is there.
Yet destruction stakes her claim,
Once again.
When I was a little girl.
I picked bluebells in the spring
And had tea parties on gran’s porch.
Free once again
Now I am older,
And longing for spring like fever,
But seeing her sister of war…
Again and once again
I still love spring and her blooms,
The sweet smelling nights
And dawn’s first light.
Pale pinks and blues among
Green growing buds.
But I can’t hide the Smokey skies,
Ashen cities
And hunger cries.
Once again and again
About the Creator
Lane Burns
I am a Poet and an inspiring short story, one day novel writer.
I like to write in free verse mostly, but am heavily inspired by Emily Dickenson, and tend to create my own rules and ideas as well.
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