
Warming their bare wings,
deciduous trees line up—
late-winter sunshine.

Warming their bare wings,
deciduous trees line up—
late-winter sunshine.

On, we yearn to fly,
our pasts are a bit blurry;
rain drops on windows.

Small town existence
the silence of the morning
echoes through the fog.

Down an alleyway;
cold mornings and coffee shops
warm hug in a mug.