From Dark to Light

photo by arantxa villa

From Dark to Light 

second year erin o’keefe

Spring is not unkind,  

For the flowers thrive. 

But to their beauty I am blind, 

And more dead than alive. 

I want something different, 

So I can feel fresh and new, 

 I want to reach past it,

And have a cleaner view. 

The sun made it too hot to think, 

So I cried tears instead. 

They were warm on my cheek, 

But were strangely misread. 

Summer thought they were of joy, 

So she persisted too long, 

And continued to annoy

Till she finished her song. 

Then the trees shimmered gold, 

With fresh painted leaves. 

They are bright and bold, 

And so the honeybee sleeps.  

Autumn’s lungs blow against me, 

A feeling so nice. 

Like hot apple crisp tea, 

Or rolling fresh dice.

The cold nights come soon, 

And they welcome sweet dreams. 

Of Winter’s white moon,

That will above me soon gleam.