In the half light Of a veiled sunrise, Trees bow and sway With anticipation. The eastern horizon Bruised and mouldering Prepares the cloud bank - Nimbus - dark and laden. At bus shelters and train stations Young women fight to control summer skirts And young men pretend not to notice, While trying to keep their hairstyles in place. The mood is grey The threat of rain is real We retreat within ourselves - While the flowers remain bright yellow.
golden flowers shine unapologetically through my somber times
Poetry is my aeroplane 