by John Grey
It’s spring
and its defiant colors,
from the barn roof
to the sods of earth.
Fog spills into rain.
Cattle chew the newness.
Bored horses almost
kick their door down.
Dog rounds up chickens
into someplace dry.
It’s time to churn the soil, to seed.
The world rolled over into sleep.
But now it’s awakening,
rubbing its eyes
until the sun breaks through.
Cooped up so long,
the family steps outside
and breathes the year ahead.
John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident, recently published in Midnight Mind, Novus and Calliope. Latest books, “Bittersweet”, “Subject Matters” and “Between Two Fires” are available through Amazon. Work upcoming in Levitate, White Wall Review and Willow Review.