by Maalaka Sharrief

Where Art Thou, Spring?

In the cold all alone

What can I call my own

Spring is overdue

Spring where are you

 

When you can’t handle the rain

All you feel is pain

Spring is lost

The coldness is all there is

 

Spring is overdue

Spring where are you

hope you come back soon.

The Touch of the Sun

I see the trees and the leaves  glow from the touch of the sun

The touch of the sun shines on the pavement, shining like silver as the dried cement holds its  place.

I feel the cool summer air and the touch of the sun shining brightly on my golden skin.

I hear the birds engaging in communication, enjoying the touch of the sun.

I hear the chiming of the bells pass by as the touch of the sun  glistens on them a ton.

I see the the red cardinal pass by the tree’s leaves as the touch of the sun hits it’s cherry feathers.

I hear the children’s laughter and chatter as they enjoy the touch of the sun.

The sound of the air conditioning helps my train of thought as I hear them going on place by place

it seems as though the touch of the sun was too much for them to handle.