deepundergroundpoetry.com
Wishing for Spring
Fluffs in the sunlight,
drifting thermally.
Leaves on a breeze.
Still slaves to gravity.
The setting suns,
Yellows, orange, and pinks.
Then purple and black,
stippled with winks.
Inhale so deep,
of someones cut grass.
Grilling out,
and sweet sassafras.
My eyes open back
on winters cold grasp.
Sniffle and cough,
in my chest there's a rasp.
Shivering cold,
so close to death.
Searing sharp pain
with each cautious breath.
If I can hold on,
Another month or two,
Sky's finally changed
From dark grey to blue.
I long to hear
morning doves sing.
Sitting so cold,
and wishing for spring.
drifting thermally.
Leaves on a breeze.
Still slaves to gravity.
The setting suns,
Yellows, orange, and pinks.
Then purple and black,
stippled with winks.
Inhale so deep,
of someones cut grass.
Grilling out,
and sweet sassafras.
My eyes open back
on winters cold grasp.
Sniffle and cough,
in my chest there's a rasp.
Shivering cold,
so close to death.
Searing sharp pain
with each cautious breath.
If I can hold on,
Another month or two,
Sky's finally changed
From dark grey to blue.
I long to hear
morning doves sing.
Sitting so cold,
and wishing for spring.
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