“Come hither!”
She beckons,
arms wide, lips curling
twisting, my soul with it.
Thunder echoes,
whispering hope in ears
rustling as autumn leaves
brushing against
my callous frame.
Worn by weather,
marred by wear,
my eyelids droop—
crinkles catch up,
I let go.
She bundles me—
warm scoop and ice cream,
melts the cold away,
carries me home.
Etched deep as carbon
a footprint of extinction
lingers a farewell
White, light on sight,
as swans in a lake
flowing with a breeze,
fluffy puffs of spring
glide across my gaze.
As tiptoeing at midnight
lest we awaken ghosts,
floating, beyond reach—
like truffle, treacle tarts,
hover those clouds.
Jump up, dance about
spread your arms and sing along
spring is your oyster
Bright green leaves nodded, agreeing with the wind whispering in their ears. Like a million marbles rolling under the sun, in yellow and pink and white and blue, flowers shone in her face, showing off their sheen, manicured petals pollinated just in time, having lent shoulders to younglings experimenting wings.
They rest a while, but in the end they always take off. For blue skies beckoned them, casting their puffs of cloudy distractions aside, bringing sunlight to the spotlight, inviting explorers, the adventurous blood-eyed magpies and chirping berry eaters.
What a shame to be indoors, Hope wondered rolling her wheelchair out.
