4:02 — O Were My Lilac Fair

The old greats go on an on about
the beauty, the newness of springtime

with its baby birds and leaping streams–
things longed for by the long suffering

of winter’s cold skeletal hand. Rebirth!

Meanwhile my car is green with pollen,
eyes swelled to itchy slits and my mind

lingers over all those bugs hatching
beneath baby birds’ nest, hatching beneath waters

grown heavy with endless rains. Rebirth
is messy, weedy, sneezy. There’s mud everywhere,

but not enough insecticide in all the world.

Today’s prompt is from Word Light Show. Prompt#2 suggests writing of your favorite season, or your least favorite. O Were My Lilac Fair is borrowed from the title of a Robert Burns poem, circa 1793.

Advertisements

One thought on “4:02 — O Were My Lilac Fair

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s