The violent storm that washes away pain
A brittle chirping echoes off walls of fresh green
Demanding notice and pulling your attention
Back in to that place of solitude and peace.
Only weeks ago our shoulders shrugged
In that involuntary reaction to winter’s frosty exhale
A cold grey blanket wrapping all but eyes
Until light, air, magic, crack open the ground.
What did we do without colour, without rain
Fresh life again, and our senses stirred
From her beautiful crust, such bounty, such gifts
And the reddest gift of all – poppies.