Eve of Spring

Moonlight at dusk,

frosting the dark sky.

The smile is now a husk.

Burning diamonds always lie.

 

Closed now, not until,

spring arrives. Sleep,

now the winter kill.

The blankets lay steep.

 

Beneath the slumber,

a single rose lay,

and then, grows numb-er,

with each passing day.

 

Spring come, Winter flee,

The rose held the only key.

Published in the 2013 Mid Rivers Review Magazine of St. Charles Community College

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