Moonlight on a stone
Doesn’t make it come alive
But makes it haunting.

………………………………………

Misty spring rain is
A winter that won’t let go
But knows it has too.

………………………………………

The field of poppies
Mourns all those not yet killed
In wars not yet fought.

………………………………………

Kitchen curtains flap
In harmony with spring’s breeze
Thinks not of morrow.