(PAD #044) transition (into popcorn)

there’s popcorn
on the golden plum

spring is in the air

sunshine
is falling
across the grass

caressing
not burning

this
is a threshold

a time
of change

seasons blur

on moment
I’m in
the winter chill

one moment
I am holding my face
up
into a sunshine stream

and popcorn
is dotting
the bare branches
of my golden plum

______________________________________________________________________________

Would you like to be notified about changes and developments in my writing world, new poetry collections and giveaways?

Subscribe to my monthly Newsletter here