Trees make a tunnel, red and orange foliage, branches arched over roads. Headlights cut haze, that crawls across streets leaves give themselves to wind, dance and tumble in decay. This warmth reminds me of mid-May, when crocuses reach up like tiny fingers. I study the sky, the widening blue canvas pushing out gray. I want …
Essence
her words were the very breath of spring her voice soft like the flowers of nature her beauty was the very essence of life itself ©2018 littleaprilshower Want to read more from this poet? Here's a link: littleaprilshower
Monarch Butterfly
April is National Poetry Month. Typically, I celebrate by sharing poetry with my blog followers. If ambitious enough, I will be posting a new poem each day for the remainder of April. Below you will find a poem I wrote in the Spring of 2016 after searching archived National Geographic Magazine articles for a teacher …