Broken Promise
Found on our driveway one spring day
On brown, neglected leaves, dried and crumbled,
Atop a tar-gravelled drive, among broken
Branches downed by winter storm ravages,
Beside bright, brave, early dandelions
Showing off scattered, cheeky, yellow blooms,
Rooted in the dead and decaying leaves,
A broken blue robin’s egg, white inside,
Lies open to the sky, leaking lost promises
Of a spring-bred life that would have added
Song and a comradely bouncing progress
Around our lawns and land as the summer
Slowly matured, until that lost life
Joined the others winging their way southward
To feed and prepare for next spring’s return.
— — —
Unfortunately failed to take a photograph of the broken egg which inspired this. Double unfortunately because I had great difficulty finding (or creating) a suitable image for the poem. Many thanks to Marcy for his post on Pixabay.
And many thanks to you for visiting.
