Quite possibly a poem by Me

April crocus

crocus cradles the sun
delicate, radiant, swaying
in April's fickle winds
purple dappled over hills of thawing earth
still brown and stale from winter
like flowers on a new grave




Well, there it is. First poem in a long while. Our lawn is so flat and matted down after all the snow we had this winter, that's what the crocus reminded me of...flowers on a new grave. Brown, brown everywhere and then...purple! A hopeful sign of a new life to come or a tribute to the one passed? Perhaps both.