Saturday, September 30, 2023

THE YELLOW HORIZON















In summer, or fall, winter, or spring 
That dusty road delivered no brass ring.

Nothing ever changed and in the twilight
There was no difference between day or night.

The green faded to a sunset so yellow
When winter came, the whites were mellow.

Spring beckoned: a path different, eternal, muted and refined
She was lifted from the sedentary because a stranger passed so kind.

© Marjorie J. Levine 2023





 

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