Tuesday, January 14, 2014

Wild Grass



Dreams come harder in winter days.
Frozen ground resists germination,
Snow covered like a shroud.
It’s a month and a half yet
Before the corner where the turn comes
And dream making begins to thaw.
It is good to know what this poem brings,
That I have not forgotten there is a corner to turn
Where life yet springs up
And dreams grow like wild grass.

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