stolen from the arc of spring
to field the questioning ones
petals bursting forth from latent slumber
only to fall from grace
what beautiful pink decay
that lays upon the prickling strands of grass
a bed of sweet scents to come
to raise the brow of gazing eyes
to cross the airy landscape
and fill the lonely drive
now we rest near the cracking asphalt
a hammock softened by winter’s form
gazing at the broken limbs of the season
i call you now to wake
from the tempest of your daze
and seek the cup of strangers
to fill your racing heart
for in the weeks to follow
horse and man will run
and by the cooling shadows
shade will be reformed
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 3/20/12
poems365dotcom 