February Day.
Rheumy eyed skies pick up
the chill of dawn,
pull fog draped curtains across
the day’s first breath.
A mist edged glow from lamp’s
last light softly holds the
frost below, and late roused birds
with ice-nipped voice, begin to
stir the air.
© sweetwater 2022
Views: 1217
(@ifyouplease)oh, beautiful write
(@sweetwater)Thank you so much, finally moving forward from the ‘loss poems’ 🙂 x sue.
(@featheredwing)This is just my type of poem…perfect.
Featheredwing.
(@sweetwater)Thank you, that is so kind of you and means a lot to me. 🙂 sue.
(@sweetwater)Hi Gothicman. Thank you, it’s good to be back having hopefully found my mojo once again.
Your comments are very welcome and appreciated and mean a lot to me. Thank you. X sue.
(@ifyouplease)well there is someone nibbing I see, this deserves a nib also. Good choices the other two recent nibs! this poem by Sue is good enough to be among Uka’s picks!
(@sweetwater)Wow thank you so much, after losing the heart to write anything other than sad words it’s extremely uplifting to find my work is considered worthy of a nib. 🙂 Sue xxx.
(@allets)Good 2 c u always. Cool light verse. xoxoxox 😀 slc
(@sweetwater)Hi Stella, thank you xxx sue.