Tout espoir brûle avec la fin de l’hiver…

 

“Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.”

– Robert Frost

 

leaves



I envisioned it, all of this,
The passages and waylays,
A myriad of misadventures,
Years burgeoning with laughter.
But failed to see the moment,
When the tracks had rusted,
And the train derailed,
Spilling over our landscape.

We could say that nothing changed,
But I know it’s merely easement,
And you know it’s worth avoiding,
The awkward that prevails.
By way of our secondary reaction
To shrug off and move forward
Time will ensure the frayed cord,
Gives way to the big wide open.

And that’s another closed door,
A crossed bridge felled to the rushing,
Another winter frozen through,
As we held our souls in their cages.
We survived the douleurs de croissance,
Only to witness our devastation,
Guised as early ombre of Spring,
Glazing poignant thorns in gold.

 

JW ©2018

 

 

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One Response to “Tout espoir brûle avec la fin de l’hiver…”

  1. All hope burns with the end of winter.

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