waiting for what may never come

red

croci huddle in small clusters
along the walk
pressed by ice and snow
of a sudden storm
winter won’t let go
air too cold for barefeet
I sit perched on the porch
watching fat flakes hit the pine
until I can no longer see
for the white covered window
blind in the moment
I close my eyes
holding my tea cup closer
to feel the heat
and smell the chai steam
memories crawl out
I am heavy now underneath
untouched for years
waiting for spring
~

Advertisements

One Comment Add yours

  1. kahwahtan says:

    a poem a day is determination…..but you are able to find the “link” between croci underneath snow and yourself buried under time….

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s