Looking Through Stained Glass

Last Stand

A gallimaufry of foliage
Start their claim on the season
No longer native to this landscape
She still stays on, only she knows the reason

Sprinkled bulbs and blossoms have burgeoned through the earth
She sits there in defiance determined to keep her berth

“We all can’t, and some of us don’t,
That’s all there is too it”
But she hears not a word her friends say
She will be the first to do it

One by one, her friends slowly twinkle away
Even as the last meanders off, she is going to stay

Her impetuous nature leaves her alone
but she has not a single fright
The jeweled dark is personal keepsake
As she concedes to her last night

Afloat in mawkish memories dabbling in alternate outcomes
But even she can’t deny her nature, or the allure of what she’s to become

She’s a specter of what once was
Basking in the final shadow of night’s indigo
The rays of el sol start to illuminate
Which she construes as her signal to go

Facing windward for the last time it seems to kiss her goodbye too
As, from a blade of grass, winter’s last snowflake falls, becoming morning dew


Morning dew on a blad of grass

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raivenne@theraivenne.com

© 2005 Raivenne (All rights reserved)

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