Silent oak trees
naked in the dusk,
still and watching,
breathing in smoky musk.

Pallid pink streaks
lay across blue, mottled skies
outside my window
bearing witness to unutterable lies.

Alone I wait,
for spring to break
from stems and branches
how long will it take?

For brown to turn to green,
for black, sleepless nights
to transform into warm, sparkling evenings,
for others to receive their deserved rights?

Birds swoop towards nests,
sheep move for shelter,
they know natures harshness
and outside they felt her.

People drive home for the day
exuding thick, grey smoke,
bustling, talking, consuming and ruling,
we choke.

Written: March 2013


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I like to write, I have no preferred style or format of writing but I usually enjoy recounting a funny story or describing my surroundings. I enjoy heated debates about society and ideologies, I have an appreciation of the great outdoors, I relish in the company of others, I'm very much a morning person, I love practising Te Waza in Judo, and I hope one day to build my own dwelling (I won't say house as that sounds terribly proper).

6 thoughts on “Spring”

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