04
Mar
Late night
I’ve been sleeping poorly for the last week or so. I even overslept one day, waking up about the time I should have left for work. I actually sleep well once I make it to bed. I just get to bed so late and have to get up that I’m not getting more than 6 hours most nights and much less many nights lately.
So, pretty much that’s just my excuse to write less and share a poem with you, instead. This one’s about a year old.
April 1
This bare season
before winter’s end
and spring’s begun
when green things
hold their breath
like a mouse waiting
for the stooping hawk
its shadow passing
over the field.
And some bright, brave
flower forces through
snow-softened soil
to test the sun.
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