Short mood poem

I cannot leave
with green in slumber on the trees,
sap, dormant in dark veins,
There is still a rough edge to be smoothed.
Still a morning, housed with glory
to attend.

I am not

© Alison Stormwolf


© stormwolf 2018
Views: 1470
critique and comments welcome.

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4 Comments on "Resilience"

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Indeed, we’re not dead yet, luv. There’s always Spring, isn’t there? That’s what makes April ‘the cruellest month of the year’, to quote T.S. Eliot:

“April is the cruelest month, breeding
lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
memory and desire, stirring
dull roots with spring rain.”

A very moody mood poem, luv, full of expectation of what comes the morning after. One we both attend to, housed with glory or not.


Dont worry Im on the case, at the risk of repeating myself, The vocal on this is great it really shows off how strong the piece is with such wonderful images to keep us locked in. Very well done Alison, best Keith

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