In shouldered rows of frosted bark,
the vines raise shivered arms,
toward the wintered sky of grey;
in thirsting for the warmth.
In tangled reach of bare-born branch,
they hold to dreams of Spring,
and sing their silent songs of life,
to buddings deep within.
this week's prompt, naked.
http://onesingleimpression.blogspot.com/2013/01/prompt-255-naked.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+OneSingleImpression+%28One+Single+Impression%29
It'll be a while until we see those buds...but it's always worth the wait, eh?
ReplyDeleteend of autumn, waiting for the spring is a welcome change. Loved the thought!
ReplyDeleteAkila