Apr 2019
I sit at the window sill
Summoning for spring's till
Of thickets of green mandates fill
The procession and succession with frill
All rise with new blossoms being a thrill
My spring garden fitting the bill
For the little birdies that mill
With their pleas of a worms swill
First, let's arrest the lingering winter chill
The deliberating ill
Citing that bitter bitter pill
That sentences my grief's overspill
With the last backlog of snow on the hill
Of the icy roads that overkill
Free my hammer from waiting still
For the arrival of springs shrill
And the exit of winter's will
My eyes hold court for the first daffodil
Logan Robertson
4/08/2019
Summoning for spring's till
Of thickets of green mandates fill
The procession and succession with frill
All rise with new blossoms being a thrill
My spring garden fitting the bill
For the little birdies that mill
With their pleas of a worms swill
First, let's arrest the lingering winter chill
The deliberating ill
Citing that bitter bitter pill
That sentences my grief's overspill
With the last backlog of snow on the hill
Of the icy roads that overkill
Free my hammer from waiting still
For the arrival of springs shrill
And the exit of winter's will
My eyes hold court for the first daffodil
Logan Robertson
4/08/2019
When spring arrives here in Anchorage, snow and ice turn to slush,
the blue transition from black and gray. and hibernating bears come out of their dens-not that I want to meet them. It's the time of year that the oven
warms with an apple pie, and the aroma of summer is around the corner. This birthing never gets old and one looks forward as the child springs forth in all of us.
the blue transition from black and gray. and hibernating bears come out of their dens-not that I want to meet them. It's the time of year that the oven
warms with an apple pie, and the aroma of summer is around the corner. This birthing never gets old and one looks forward as the child springs forth in all of us.
