Wednesday, April 22, 2015


by Patrick J. Walsh

In the light of winter sun
the gray stillness of the empty field
seems bigger
than the memory of days
when the grass grew freely

A wrap of dying leaves
enshrouds the early fall
sealing away
any chance for new growth
as the black winds turn chill

And summer, lusting red with heat
in sodden, sweaty steps
stomps down
the flooded patches
with an angry trail of mud

But spring, its secrets hidden
in the lush fertile soil
deep below
renews the promise of green
and its hope for a better world

© Patrick J. Walsh

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