Just like a really
great big flower
poised to spring out
from a bump
upon its branch.

A bud still closed,
a pulsing life
that winter froze,
whose color
from that tight
bright bud
spreads out its
and bounces light. . .

and though the bud
was quite dark pink,
the full blown petals
spread like white,
just one shade shy,
I think,

and some of those
surprised observers
tend to get so very nervous
to see let go
the bundled pose of winter,
that at that flower’s bursting out,
their faces cannot help themselves,
and so,
begin to blanch.

This entry was posted in Medium Length Poems, Poetry, Seasons, Spring, Winter and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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