Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2020
I can see sand on the watery riverbed.
Dappled grey clouds reflected ripples.
A curious swan glides over to meet me.
Winter is relinquishing it’s hold
and grey-green grass is sprouting.
Shaggy sodden crows bob their heads and
the geese are calling.
Liz
Written by
Liz  London
(London)   
153
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems