Steel-Clad, Sprouting Anew
Robins; song like spirited
Opera slipping through the umber of a
Burgeoning thicket, skittish breasts like
Instances of candlelight
Nanoseconds before it's snuffed out.
Lanterns, the thin of their flesh marred by
Yesteryear's sun; weathered husks,
Now battered by the wind,
No closer to the near-death of stubborn ground.
Spring, her steel-clad resolve
To sprout anew
Emblazoned on the hillside;
Endless and verdant
Like turbulent waters slow-
Encroaching on the silt of unwitting shore.