A cold spring morning,
sun enters open shutters
cool breeze touches face.

Chopped parsley on swirl
adorns bowl of hot creamy,
puréed pumpkin soup.


Eyes roam the green fields
some boulders block them from view,
words hide...like truths veiled!

Uneasy muse flees,
but...a winged creature arrives,
a peach mimosa...

Seeking shelter now,
flash rain pours...petrichor fades,
floods flow...blocks crumble!


sally b

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
    May 1, 2025