TSM 109

roses by the fence
have clawed their way
from thawed dirt

colors hungry
as if red and yellow had
hibernated underground

all winter
and now devour
the morning

it was you and I
hunkered along the path
between thickets

our eyes foraging
twigs and bristle
that left scars

down the bark
a sight too famished
for Spring

For The Sunday Muse

21 thoughts on “TSM 109

  1. I applaud those spunky roses, clawing their way through the dirt to devour the morning. Maybe we could have devoured it too if we weren’t hunkered down foraging twigs and bristle! Great write.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Cue: “Hungry Eyes”…

    This is a rather different take on spring, a more visceral and survivalist tone. I like it, though the second part is melancholy.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks. Yeah, I’m not so sure about the 2nd half. Maybe just end after “the morning”? I was hoping I could keep some momentum, pull the reader through to something more. Extend without over-extending. Not sure it worked. I hate the last line. What a cheese bag.


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