acrylic on canvas
This morning a timid sun arrived holding hands with a stranger named blue sky.
I greeted them and took them in. I didn't have to try.
Like memory in an aging mind
our visit was too brief.
For a crowd of clouds came pushing through carrying heavy bags of grief.
In my house there's little room for what these guests do bring.
I look at them and close my eyes while longing for the Spring.