Readers who like to read in sips will be drowning in the next few days, as I work HARD to catch up w/ NaPoWriMo. I’m (trying!) to use the NaPoWriMo prompts, from the site. This poem springs from prompt #1:

In honor of today’s interviewee, I’d like to challenge you to write a Kay-Ryan-esque poem: short, tight lines, rhymes interwoven throughout, maybe an animal or two, and, if you can manage to stuff it in, a sharp little philosophical conclusion.

65

Spring has its own
rhythm. Hear
the whispersift
of cherry petals
nearing the ground
the drift of blossom
on warm air.
How bare earth
greens towards
summer. And still
it seems a headlong
fall to winter.