Cherry Blossom Haze

The mist of the morning clings to
thick air with a brace of cold –

beautiful, distant, and fleeting –
hanging beyond fingers that yearn,

outstretched, for a delicate touch
from the borrowed light behind.

Short colours curl through shadows
and unwrap the early of day,

calm in the damp silence,
tangling with a sullen world,

as the skies weep with
powdered jewels on pale edifice,

poised just so, with bright grace,
that a lost soul might look, and dream.



So, what do you think?

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

You are commenting using your 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 )

Google+ photo

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

Connecting to %s