VII. Printemps

The arrival of Spring has brought some much needed warm weather, and the flowers and trees are finally coming to life! So I decided to write a poem about it when I should be writing an essay.


the flowers have come out again,
splintering the soil with colours
and petals of silk that crumple
quietly under my feet.
when I ask how their winter was,
they look up at me and sing
about a life of endless sun,
where they sleep and rise
with the seasons of warmth
and I am jealous
of a life that does not know
the sombre skies of winter,
the withering winds of autumn.
But my envy is brief,
for I know these flowers
will never see the beauty
of true rebirth as I do,
never know how the Earth
flexes her fingers in spring
to paint her whole body
a colossal rainbow of flora,
before graciously watching it
fade with the leaves
and washing it grey
with the winter and snow.


2 thoughts on “VII. Printemps

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