Spring Rain

I wake with swollen hands
and sore shoulders.
The compost pile,
full of weeds and overgrowth, sits
like a bloated Buddha laughing
at my unfit frame.
Last night
the clouds cried at the loss of life but
the Earth released
a fragrance of gratitude
and waits, prepared
for another season of abundance.

3 comments:

Eva Trillian said...

My imagination paints vivid pictures with your words!

Letitia said...

You make me smile Eva. Enjoy the day! :)

Anonymous said...

Love the images of this poem, very beautiful Lettie. The new season is knocking at the door. Enjoy the day!

Inktober 52 2022 Prompts 1 - 6

                     WILD DECAY STRIPES FROG (Think Coat Toggle) SQUASH MICRO Yes... it's an octopus thing. 😉