Sunday, 25 February 2024

through the window

 through the window 


the wind and the birds

deep in the bushes’ stirring


winter leaves slowly

slowly winter leaves

winter slowly leaves 


us alone 

with our memories

and the foretelling 


the race is on

blossoms unfurl one after the other

the birds have stopped squabbling 

hunting now the worms for nestlings


slowly

the sun rises in the sky

warmth returns

slowly


again


as i have said before


tomorrow 


aye tomorrow 

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