sword-shaped
wild iris leaves
pierce the meadow sod,
reaching outwards
from cold reclusive shelter
beneath native strawberry
carpeted repose
juxtaposed ― smoke rises
to the sun
like the basal verdures
of fleeting winter's escape;
crawling up an invisible
spiral staircase seeking
the azure heavens
r e n a s c e n c e
a nexus ―
stormy winter’s windfall
and,
irony of a wooden match,
gathered winter tinder
inflamed, sacrificed
to the heraldic spring skies
of the begetter;
just like
the wistful soul
beheld a simple man
that impatiently rests
on the threshold
of a dream,..
unnoticed
by the billowing silence
of evanescent
winter exile:
daydreaming
a peaceful ascendance;
dissipating puffs of smoke
drifting away
unto the ether,
weightless as light
harlon rivers ... spring 1st, 2018