When breaking through the leaves
what’s left in purpled hearts
were wounds and scars,
and scent of decomposing bones,
when through composted death
these stems of hope and buds explode
and in the way the blackbirds greet
how the crocus seeks for sun.
… it’s spring
Today Hannah wants us to see nature and write about what we find outside our doors at toads. I do understand that we are later than most, but crocuses are blooming in my garden right now. This is my ninth entry for NaPoWriMo..
April 9, 2016