Runcible Blog

(untitled 11/2007)

I know nothing of love
that blossoms in Autumn,
with Nature-defying ease.

It grows through bold innocence,
unaware of the time or the timing or the timers.
It reaches and sprouts,
draws warmth from the tundra,
and thrives.

Who can smell the petals as the roots flourish underground?
While I long for this unknown wonder,
it whispers from the dirt,
"be patient"

this one's more recent, relevant, and romantic (to me, anyway)