I dug the holes
and covered the acorns
with the disembodied
spirit of hope
Maybe in death
life would live
I hold on tight
to the frozen
dawns of winter's
demise
The days grow
in rows of
interpretude
Collecting
pole dancing soltices
and bi-polar
equinoxes
chardonarily
intoxicated
in literary analyses
from southern France
Ah , but those acorns
so full of promise
Maybe they will oak out
and I can someday
be the earthern
reality infusing
the return of
spring again
Jan 9, 2021
Jan 9, 2021 at 7:32 AM UTC
I dug the holes
and covered the acorns
with the disembodied
spirit of hope
Maybe in death
life would live
I hold on tight
to the frozen
dawns of winter's
demise
The days grow
in rows of
interpretude
Collecting
pole dancing soltices
and bi-polar
equinoxes
chardonarily
intoxicated
in literary analyses
from southern France
Ah , but those acorns
so full of promise
Maybe they will oak out
and I can someday
be the earthern
reality infusing
the return of
spring again
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