April Fool's on 2nd's Seconds

Guest Poems > sunny

"Now is no time to write!",
the voice did say.

Go out and enjoy the brilliant air.
Go out and see this finer day.
Go out and walk ''til there is no road.
In front of one's feet
perhaps the woods will goad
with a prick of a vine, with thorns so sharp
to make one jump; to stab the skin.
Drops of blood beg to begin, as eyes
wish to soak in flowers,
rather than
drops of minutes,
falling from
clouds of hours.