Darkness will be here sooner than I’d like. I can hardly wait for spring.





The trees dress in lime and avocado
when the brightness of spring returns.

Their nooks and niches throw off
the previous season’s muted palette.

Now sunlight sports a new look:
golden-edged whites, the palest yellow.

The grass, faded so long underfoot, dons
a new gloss of emerald and peridot.

After Gaia’s turn on the celestial catwalk,
I slip on shades and saunter forth.


Curious to see more of my writing?  Visit me – Brenda Joyce Patterson – on Facebook, Twitter, and my website.

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