when spring flowers…

when spring flowers the poet
has little other choice
but to compose at minimum
a couple if not a few poems

so here’s one

a spring poem more or less forced by the spring

the sagebrush the breeze makes wave so slight
suggests via the windborne whisper
little is gained by taking root
in barren and rocky fretfulness.

Better to settle on the mellow
in the form of a willow woven sling
and slowly sip from the wapiti straw
in silent silhouette on the ridge

just beginning to breathe bolder green,
and for a jingle conjure a standard


About Timmy the Scribbler

Love to write all kinds of stuff I love writing so many different kinds of stuff it is a constant struggle to narrow the focus to a manageable handful and let the others go. But a few years ago I dipped my fingers into a poetry pie and of all my uncertainties, one thing that is no uncertainty is that it is one passion that must remain, so maybe that's the one. I do dearly delight in chopping up fictional works into stanzas and syllables.
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