It was a square of sunlight,
luminescent through the cotton fabric
bringing the leaves on the curtains to life.
It was a raft to catch hold of –
an ephemeral thing,
a wafer of hope
ready to dissolve, sweetly,
on the pillow of my tongue.
It was a small word spoken –
spring, spring, susurrating in the air.
A promise of things to come.
i like this, it feels kind of nostalgic. maybe for long cold winters and promises of spring.
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