Lost in thought

We’ve lost, we’re losing,
it’s so much loss, too much.

But the clouds are rolling
and the breeze is blowing
and nature is so beautiful
and the dried delicate leaves
are doing their dance of balance
between hanging on and falling away
amidst their wintry shiverings —

they love the wind
for helping them let go —

they fall to the ground
and the gentle rain comes
and helps them nourish the earth.

A gray bird lands on a bare gray branch
both unadorned, yet so, so beautiful.
And the leaves are drifting
and our lives are drifting
and loss is just another form of beauty.

—Terri Guillemets

Poetry of spring

Springtime is a poet —
the blue sky its blank page
so vibrant green the rhyme
a different metre for every clime
birds chirping to keep the time
wildflowers yellow, red, purple divine
words dancing on tall blades of grasses
sparkling in the morning dew
no commas the flow keeps buzzing
vernal dashes & blossoming branches
on newly greening verdant trees
refrains whisper in each breeze
butterflies as floating apostrophes
ladybug-dotted question marks
a flourishing bloom at every stop
continuing a poem that’s never ended
and into summer’s colors is blended

—Terri Guillemets