Cyprus Spring


Cyprus pond and ducks;
her face in her own two hands
on the banks, alone.

Green, tan, red and brown
made auburn by early spring,
conversant release.

Soon, a smile as the
sun. Laughter and remembrance
of pines and water.

Amongst prideful folk;
strong framework, forgotten heart
vision turning home.

This short season, here.
When might all things come to light?
Each brief glimpse, a flash.

Embrace and parting;
a mention of Lebanon.
On my way, anew.

There, here; both. I drive.
The mind, fixing on mountains,
trees, oceans and words.

Comments

Anonymous said…
very good
Anonymous said…
I like this pithy little verse.
Three pithy posts for the day.

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