Promise of Spring

My snow dirtied mind, squandered with rain and dirt,is ready.These ancient trails call my nameand I am ready.To be alone in a temple of deep space, my cardinal ears are ready.Where there is no religion but God and sun and land and the scent of boiled arrowroot,gathering on my neck and chest,I am ready.I am ready. George Cassidy Payne is a poet from Rochester, […]