Poetry

By Ryan, 1 April, 2022

The trees are waking,
Their leaves taking
Leave from the holes

Where they hid within
The branches branching
From their mighty boles.

The seeds they ceded
Last year to the
Fertile ground below

Are gone, replaced by
Tender shoots,
Preparing now to grow.

By Ryan, 26 September, 2021

What I desire to change
Will oft outlast my will
What I wish would remain
Will leave me (unfulfilled)