I like whisp with an 'h'! And I'm getting so ancient that I'm mixing French with English spelling too! Good grief!
REFLECTION
There is no wind today
just an occasional whisp
that moves the Winter leaves -
brown against the grey sky -
and tiny specks of snow descend,
miniature parachutists from heaven
with not a chance of surviving.
The terrace stones become wet
with their watery blood.
The cats won't venture out.
The Bluetits attack the bird balls
with almost desperate pecks
getting what they can
before the robin decides his share
is to be taken now... Now!
And I find my 'now' is filled
with a powerful need for
reflexion.
© Griffonner 2024
Poetry by Griffonner
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Written on 2024-02-08 at 16:26
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