First Day Of Spring 2015

A day of clouds scudding
across a production-line sky,
vaporous dreadnaughts,
caravels lumber by above,
never disturbing,
the ocean’s surface they defy.

The sun becomes a signal lamp
speaking in poetry to the static
lands of the earth whispering:
not too many millennia now my love,
until we’re one again.

Crows hop through sweetgum limbs
foregoing the green tips
test black brittle branches
with claw and beak, drop them
to retrieve for nest building later.

I am wealthier than I’ve ever been
in terms of money, but those
sun signals are telling me beware
of approaching summer storms:
change is coming, and not growth.

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a poet from Seattle Washington USA. His poetry has appeared in print in publications such as Bellowing Ark, Point Nopoint, and most recently in Contraposition magazine. When not writing poetry he is a Human Resources professional, a repentant glutton, and a novelist specializing in the weird-fiction genre.
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Balveen Cheema

Loved the end- change is coming, and not the growth, which is often juxtaposed.


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