Friday, April 15, 2005

Free Writing

a free write

Winter seems to have found new breath
blown back across the grasses
into my yard, cold chimes ring
taunting from the porch.

The dogwood blooms -- too weak,
its leaves too tender to hold back
the breeze, too young to fight
this frigid invasion.

April has gone, a short hiatus
allowing the hostile return
of the uninvited.

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