Spring

[eclipse]

looking into a mirror inside a 

watchtower  winter

plays solitaire, outside trees

are weighed in the dark. Leaves

are like keys, clouds thieves rinsing

winter's residue. On a branch a bird

raises a single wing to make contact

-scattered applause of butterfly wings

for the first act of spring.

 

Children's eyes are like bees as they play

on a park, at night as they dream the moon

raises noises from the day out of pond waters,

honey drips from the fingers of spring into the

mouths of winter's daughters-guide the sound

to it's source children's eyes open with the 

flowers purse for the bee.

 

An owl sketches itself into springs self portrait

before it's claws rip through the canvas to catch

it's first kill-making visible briefly time's unresting

anvil. Blades of grass are anchored delicately, 

as the soil labors imperceptibly, waters weave

as co-authors, newly born frogs breathe, as

waters exhale. 

[dcmarti1]

scattered applause of butterfly wings

honey drips from the fingers of spring

as the soil labors imperceptibly,

Great lines, great imagery.

[Tinker]

Hi Barry,   I love this Spring poem, especially the last stanza.  I agree with Marti,  "honey drips from the fingers of spring"  This really is great imagery.

~~Tink

[tonyv]

"Winter / plays solitaire," because it's lonely. I like lonely.

"Trees / are weighed in the dark" -- and that's how I feel, especially in autumn. But all my issues aside, "the soil labors imperceptibly," and that makes me feel better, as if it's someone else's problem. Good work.

Tony

[eclipse]

This has won three competitions...

[Tinker]

Congratulations!

~~Tink

[tonyv]

Yes, great job, Barry. 

[badger11]

Yes, congratulations!

 

honey drips from the fingers of spring and winter plays solitaire were both memorable