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