fringe iris
Remember me not
in the shades of autumn;
think of me not
in the whites of winter.
But rather,
when all my summer days
are gone, think of me,
instead, as Spring.
Clothe me in the raiment
of new flowers and fresh rain,
of budding trees and
fertile earth.
Imagine me with the
new-born sun,
covered in a garland
of returned stars renewed.
Remember me not
in the shades of autumn;
think of me not
in the whites of winter.
But rather,
when all my summer days
are gone, think of me,
instead, as Spring.
hardy summit
spark solar
rancid carbon
quaint raven