.post-body entry-content { margin-top: 15px; margin-bottom: 15px; }

Friday, March 23, 2012

Transit Gloria




 
My forsythia--
Yellow sparkles in sunshine--
Light up the morning.


Breaking through the trees
The sun shines through my window;
Cars whish on the road.


Springtime comes forth
With licks of gentle sunshine
On children's laughter.

   

Still the pines are green;
Still the fence waves like the sea;
Some things do not change.

Little wood fairies
Stand silently in the sun.
The woods have no sound.


A lone bird chatters;
Woods are completely silent;
Woodpecker rattles.


Padding down the road
A jogger moves through the sun
With measured effort.


The shadows are soft
Falling like ghosts on the road.
Sun just coaxes them.

A Christmas message
Hid in faded roadside wreath:
"Transit Gloria!"






No comments: