Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Fixed



Like the leaves
On the trees
You hold on
Not wanting to
surrender
To the barrenness of
winter
Nor open to the blossom
Of spring
The sun sets,
softening
But you remain brittle
The breeze gently teases
trying to pry you off
the spindly branch
Yet you remain fixed
Neither yielding
Nor thriving
Even the autumn glow
Has faded
You remain fixed
Fixed to the moodiness
Of your season






Poem: © Penelope Mavor 2015
Image: own

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