(Inspired by images AB18, BB18, OVO18)
Wraiths un-gathered time,
and pools of light formed puddles on city streets
un-waded by human feet. Above, faces behind windows
watched first cherry blossoms then roses bloom,
as nature creeped while families Zoomed.
Daffodils had beckoned with smiles,
and trees waved green arms in benediction
and greeting. The river beguiled
in heron grey and jay-wing blue, the transience
and truth in each turning revealed.
Now spring comes at a slant, as a rippled glass
opening reflects and reflects–
beauty, grief, love, and regret,
the elongated shadows
on budding greens are ghosts,
the birdsong is laughter, reminders of you.
This is my poem for Day 18 of Paul Brookes Poetry Month Ekphrastic Challenge. You can see the art and read the other poems here. I’m also sharing it with dVerse. I’m hosting today, and the prompt is windows. Today is the anniversary of my mom’s death three years ago when the world shut down from COVID. Our cat Mickey had died earlier that same week. My dad also died in the spring many years ago, but both my children were born in February (count backwards). I have complicated feelings about spring!
You can’t tell here, but we’re sitting in front of a large window of her building’s lobby.