A Year is Five Seasons
Eugene Stevenson
Green grass
suffocates each
hard breath beneath the sun,
words uttered, but stifled go
unheard.
Come the
falling leaves, a
love-child’s symphony for
new beginnings & crackling old
failings.
The snow
has chilled the still
& untroubled branches,
breathing out of sync in the night
quiet.
Flowers
break through hard earth,
unturned earth that begins
to warm, its surface pelted by
the rain.
Broad leaves
shelter again,
robins’ & sparrows’ songs
destined to deliver baby
a nap.
Eugene Stevenson
Green grass
suffocates each
hard breath beneath the sun,
words uttered, but stifled go
unheard.
Come the
falling leaves, a
love-child’s symphony for
new beginnings & crackling old
failings.
The snow
has chilled the still
& untroubled branches,
breathing out of sync in the night
quiet.
Flowers
break through hard earth,
unturned earth that begins
to warm, its surface pelted by
the rain.
Broad leaves
shelter again,
robins’ & sparrows’ songs
destined to deliver baby
a nap.