C lear sky, morning light, H ouse finch singing in my line of sight— A ll make me long for yesterday, N ot the newness of today. G one are the blooms that stirred my heart, E very last one has fallen apart.
It would be an interesting parallel (perpendicular?) poem/contemplation to later to photograph/write something about “when grief turns to joy” — the bare branches to buds.
Beautiful.
It would be an interesting parallel (perpendicular?) poem/contemplation to later to photograph/write something about “when grief turns to joy” — the bare branches to buds.
Definitely! It’s still happening in other species.☺️