The
sky is that certain shade
of
Saturday blue
with
a ribbon of sea green
and
an easiness
like
hope restored.
A
budding longing
for
that far-off scent
of
hyacinth, daffodil,
dirt—even,
burns
like a mini-sun, a burgeoning sequence star,
behind
the manteau of gray-black-white,
frozen-earth,
crunch-bite—
a
little poem
warming
in the pocket of sky
that
certain shade of Saturday blue.
©
2017 Jennifer Wagner
