Tuesday, April 1, 2014

Arrival (NaPoWriMo Day 1)

The way the river swells and pushes
The way the meadow sits brown and heavy
The way I switch with distrust from wool socks to cotton
The way the trailhead parking lot overflows on Sundays
The way ice gives way to mud and makes the hikers giddy
The way my face craves affection,
And turns with gratitude
To the stingy, sometimes-blue sky.

1 comment:

  1. Fave line "The way I switch untrustingly from wool socks to cotton" I know what you mean--it's like you don't want to believe it 'cause mother nature can change her mind at any moment--this is the promise of spring.