Sunday, April 19, 2015

Pale spring blooms flutter against a whisper
As strewn rays of light rain
Slightly swaying forth
Back against a bark
Tire swings reminiscence 
When the grits of impossible shard my skin
I think to myself
These are the scars of my win
She draped her felicity 
With a countenance alight
Blissful radiance enveloping the night