Photo courtesy of Adam L. Cox.
March Awaits
by Matthew Burns, 2009
March awaits just over the horizon
So close but still a world away,
While I sit despondent in the bleakness
Of the land that time forgot.
Promises wear thin
As the wolf beats on the door,
And the dark February winter yields
Little hope for a brighter day.
I look to the past
With its silver bells and festive garments,
Now musty, dusty and old
And ponder their futility.
Signs point
To a new day dawning,
Though they remain barely discernible
As March awaits just over the horizon.
Good Lord that's depressing! And at a time when we have so much good stuff -- and hope -- going on.
ReplyDeleteI love that photo and your poem; thanks for sharing.
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