Thursday, March 3, 2011

March the Second

After year-long weeks of bitter chill
Of numb fingers clattering over keyboards
Of face-skin indistinguishable from mist soaked grey
Of fog ever one step ahead
The sky has broken and heaven shines through
Over cumulus and under dirty gray stratus
March spills over in white-gold glory
Beams curl like fingers in cotton candy
I stand cold still, hopeful, expectant

I had a dry spell. That's all.


  1. That's one hell of a comeback post :)

    I loved the imagery! Fingers in cotton candy, white-gold glory, still, hopeful, expectant. The whole lot.

  2. Ben! How am I to remain adequately humble with your kind words? :-)
    Thank you very much.


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