Lori Brown

Her eyes wide, ever seeking

Loves bloom waning, reeking

It’s not for you, you fool

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For every sun there is a moon

For every ray of light there is a shadow

For every moment of warmth

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The birds come, so many in flight

Many under the safe cover of night

April springs hope and renewal

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Don’t make them real

Those feelings that you feel

Put them aside or under

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Though I have a mother

I mourn the mother that I never had

She loves me without condition

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The wispy trail of the scud crashes by

Natures street sweeper ready to fly

The usually graceful foliage of the

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Times are dire for Mother Russia

What does your painted eyes portend

As to the fate of your countrymen?

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The tree, black and barren

Limbs reaching to the heavens

Branches bowed in tribute to the

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Time for brunch or is it time for lunch?

There is chicken noodle soup, enough

To feed a large group

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Snowflakes twirl like debutants at the ball

All in white with white gloves all

Pirouettes and curtsies in the opulent hall

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