Golden Cloud


Spring Where Did You Go?

I celebrated a warm February.

I worked land normal frozen

Pulling weeds and moving winters kill.

I basked in the Sun.

With great pleasure stealing extra days.

No one told me the price.

Not a whisper of Winters cold heart.

Her jealous and rage have come due.

My precious spring colors buried.

Purples, reds, white!

From Hells own cold heart must this be born