Like green periscopes
tiny shoots peer from muddy
beds searching for sun.
Early daffodils
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Like green periscopes
tiny shoots peer from muddy
beds searching for sun.
Like green periscopes
tiny shoots peer from muddy
beds searching for sun.
Stark trees hide flowing
sap like a dormant love that
awakens in spring.
Snowpack seems solid
but underneath, droplets sing
of melting caverns.
Like laser pointers
they blind in red green blue as
they save the planet
Photos we look bad
in. Braggy newsletter. That’s
how we keep in touch.
Soon, darkness recedes.
But tonight I wrap myself
in velvet-starred black.
Hats, gloves, put away
in optimism return
for winter’s last gasp.
In the skyscraper
canyons, light outlines moving
shapes sipping Starbucks.
a dilemma of
riches in tiny topaz
the art of language
Mud has a smell that’s
like waking up to coffee.
You know you’re alive.