The Turning Point

The heart knows not winter
only change,
transition,
as the cold comes to usher in the flame–
I look out and embrace
what seem to be amber, spruce and rose
each of which soothe into quiet reflection.
Come February,
I have emptied the soul of pain
similar to how torn pages scatter in the wind.

 

Photo credits: David Bulow @ Bulow_Ink Instagram

Posted for ‘Art Flash 55’ @ Real ToadsĀ 

also on Poetry Pantry @ Poets UnitedĀ