The Poetry of
Jack Scott

Spring

Winter blows no more.
Spring tiptoes in like plovers
stitching sparkling, lacy hem
to rich egg-laden sand.
The tide is coming in.
Spring brews wild blossom teas
as trees drop hankies on the breeze.

 

380 ®Copyright 1974 Jack Scott. All rights reserved.
From Poemystic.com