Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Brittle Sunlight
Most say a sunbeam’s
glare is beautiful
The February sun
slanting upon
Poor optimistic
flowers opening out
To celebrate the
trickster’s transient warmth
Haze grey is gentler,
drifts of morning mists
Through which ascending
light speaks promises
Of happiness
along life’s pearling dreams
When no sun marks
or assigns us dutiful hours
To those who see
whole worlds in shoaling leaves
Cold February
fogs whisper happiness
No comments:
Post a Comment