The Palette of Spring
Poetry
Half the month of March slipping by
and winter refuses to let go of its grip.
Let me iron your tongue,
unravel your eyes.
Let me swim to your unwavering riverside
and permit me to unlock your hungry heart.
When the lark hears us sing
we won’t remember a thing
except for the sweet concerto of buttercups
and the inviting palette of the pastel colors of spring.
Grace notes: At this very moment, it is still chilly and my bones and joints ache. Yet, I know spring is right around the corner and I eagerly await the buds and mildness in the air. The world changes, as does my picturesque garden. Do you see the first signs of spring by you? Or is spring a double-edged sword for you?
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