People still stare out windows
in houses like these
built centuries ago,
towers and turrets,
defensive stone, arched windows,
and yet the poplar tree leans
against this wall,
a few yellow leaves cling
to its wintered branches,
like souls to history,
unforgettable, a few
where once many
shivered and burst into spring.
Writing a poem a day is challenging. This poem came from a photo I took during September's trip to Scotland, an unforgettable time. Here in Spokane, spring has finally arrived with 75 degree weather, cherry trees in bloom, green grass, and the very first tulips.
You hooked me with the photo and reeled me in with the poem. A sense of Time...
ReplyDeleteEnjoyed this one, Beth. Photo is almost like a strand of lights on the tree. Stirling is the heart of Scotland in more ways than one.
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