• Tricia D. Wagner

Nights on Spice Island #1.7

Updated: Sep 12

The perishing cowslips

speak to the glade and the rabbits

that easy days have fled.

But have they?

The cowslips, so lovely, might give way

to a forest flushed golden with light,

to leaves of startling red,

to snows that teach the meaning of blue.

The cowslips maybe over

but still may my song ring merry

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