Monday, December 1, 2025

Transformation

Transformation 


Today there is yellow;
buff-butter primula 
whisper renewal,
yolk-bright narcissi,
hum rebirth, 
beginnings, 
conception.

The breeze 

licks my face,

lifts my hair,

floats me 

beyond the confines of my body.


A low ray of spring sun

kisses my chest

sucks out 

the sharp black stones

that have stabbed me

through this heavy winter.

Transforms them to seeds

that I may plant

to grow

into something yellow.


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