I’ve never understood why people find winter ugly and depressing.
Spring is worshipped by all without pollen allergies --
intrepid sprigs and fresh blooms emerging against all odds
out of bleak desolation.
In summer, the earth is fecund and verdant,
soaking up sunlight, giddy with sugar
thrusting out fistful after fistful of fruits and flowers.
Loss in Autumn is mellowed by bounty;
rich colors warm against the growing chill.
But winter is stark, barren,
stripped to bare branches and spiny stalks.
Life is sucked back to the roots,
knotted around soil --
a trickle of sap just enough to for
frost-chewed limbs to still stretch beyond the horizon,
ready for spring.
Author notes
all comments, constructive criticism, and suggestions welcome.
(september 2009)
Comments
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Great but seemed out of season. Wishful thinking?
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This was very beautifully written. I enjoyed reading this. This was amazing. I really liked this. Anyways. Keep up the awsome work.
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