Flowers On Friday

breeze biting
my cheeks birds calling
only from the trees the ground
stiff the sky adrift
painted with soft light from the winter’s sun
my coat thick warming my core making it hard
to bend and explore
I must get outside in the fresh
air it opens my thoughts
and lifts my hair curling and twirling my soul
no day is ordinary and is
always a gift

I found this bit of left-over color from summer at the marsh the other day. It takes more effort to find flowers this time of year but that is half the fun.


  1. Every line of this poem contains a treasure, Carrie. My particular favorite among many is: “the ground stiff the sky adrift;” and all of it capped by a photograph of a cheerful yellow flower so late in the season.

    1. I hope you know how much I admire and appreciate your comments! Thank you. I loved that line too! There was some hesitation in how the words wanted to come to rest, it is nice to hear it reads as I hoped.

  2. The image is soft and lovely (And I so love yellow!) and I very much like your words … especially “curling and twirling my soul”

Please take a moment, comments encouraged.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s