She stands at the
star of the hill,
red hair curling
and unfurling
like a flag.
We quicken
to see her,
with foot, fur
and seedling
heart.
The nights
were deep,
we lost
countless things
in the dark.
Now she
crests the hill
red, fire.
So bright she is,
the darker stars
fade out
and the candles
in our hearts
flame again.
Dear readers, to those of you transitioning from winter to spring, may you find new fire for your dreams and schemes.
Inky Cat's Poems 