jaqui.eicherSpeak of Spring
The calm green
across the ridge evinces
slow, thoughtful rest.
The trees speak of
spring, even in the rain.
I would regret hearing
a sound now unless
it was that of a hawk's call
across the canyon.
The calm green
across the ridge evinces
slow, thoughtful rest.
The trees speak of
spring, even in the rain.
I would regret hearing
a sound now unless
it was that of a hawk's call
across the canyon.
This is the age I learned that I could not erase my mistakes in a way that created a neat, pointed eraser like Natalie could. In many ways, this is the age I first remember disappointment--the disappo