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Spring Waits

3/28/2011

I wept for late summer’s withering death.
The cool finish of August inhaled her last breaths.
The ripening comfort - a golden caress -
ebbed and flowed in through my bare rising breast.

As the sting of the cold thawed deep in my chest,
the embers of autumn exhaled on my flesh.

I slept through the night where fall lay with her fate,
lulled by whispers of winter, fresh on my face.
In the black sapphire depths of a dream speckled slate,
she breezed off confessions of warmth she would take.

Winter's cold indigo soul then invaded
the places gold autumn had left saturated.

I kept hold of those hues that winter would spare.
Her prisms were prisons, cool tones of despair,
yet the grey cage of winter had secrets to bare
and the key was what wiles nature soon had share.

Where the wind shifts directions and sweetens the air
- in my windows left open - spring waits for me there.

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Submitted on May 01, 2011

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Jana Satterlund Claim this poet

I wrote my first poem at the age of 10. Although I enjoyed reading and writing poetry, I didn't truly appreciate it until a few years ago. At 21 I started really writing for myself as a release. It has surely become my escape, my late night ritual, my confession. I feel honored to be a part of this community where so many talented poets come together. I appreciate any sentiment and am elated at the opportunity to comment on so many beautiful pieces! more…

All Jana Satterlund poems | Jana Satterlund Books

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    "Spring Waits" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 14 May 2021. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/84958/spring-waits>.

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