The 30th of February brings
Sunlight to the Adirondacks again.
New tears fall, conjuring an ocean from a pond
Because spring has forgotten to bring the
Promise of new beginnings,
Instead settling with winter’s sharp thistles.
I watch the writers put pens to paper,
Drawing the flowers that don’t bloom.
So this is what the poets prophesized,
The pond that has become an ocean
And an answer that is in the question.
Literary Musings 