march’s pewter clouds
scurry and flit
over fields laid bare
from winter’s cold.
on the porch, I spy
a single crow perched
atop my weathered
fence post
as yellow daffodils,
clustered below,
struggle to bloom
through melting snow.
(mostly) short poems on life and love
writer, dreamer, lover, seeker. labels never reach the heart of any matter, but they might be a place to start...