Posted in Art, Poetry

The Poet’s House – Spring


Found art in a used book. I colored Spring in a b&w image.

Translucence
follows suit
of gray doves -gone.
Hope circles, in the sky
orbit
sharp green blades
that lie low
in soil, kneaded
with nimble thoughts
to sprout joy.

It is not spring in Massachusetts. It is spring in Jeanne’s attic, where all such things are stored.

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