A Spring Walk Poem

We grab the leash,

Walk out the front door,

and begin our walk, Brennan and I.

The sun has set on this Easter Monday,

our first day back to school after break.

The walk last night it was cold, cold, cold.

The wind howled through our ears making them whistle in agony.

Tonight, as the light fades, it’s spring-like!

The coat, stocking hat, and gloves I wear are not necessary.

The conversation flows with my 14-year-old…

the source of true warmth for the walk.

Up to the top of the hill,

golden retriever grateful for the fresh air.

The absence of wind is a gift on this warm Colorado evening.

The native Indians believed the wind howled each spring as the days warmed to keep the snow on the mountains from melting.

Back down the hill, darkness creeps in.

In the distance, I can see the snow on Pikes Peak.

The wind is doing its job…

 

This story poem was inspired by The Poem Farm’s One Subject – 30 Ways.

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