Poetry

Creeping Spring

 

The end of time had come, everything is lifeless.

Wait, there you see, it’s creeping and crawling such a lovely green.

Patches, speckles here and there.

Slowly climbing up and down the gray hard cold trees.

You think it will never come

Though overnight there it is creeping, crawling

such a lovely Spring.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *