Summer sounds unheard here—
child voices playing together-games
splashing, laughing in the river
empty streets echo hush
Harvest home and autumn leave
trick or treat masks truant
Jack Frost’s dance on windows
barricades seeking eyes
It’s not the clutch of winter
cold in throats
stifling frozen breath
captured in scarves
Spring arrives invisible
daffodils shine distant
unpicked by gloved hands
maples dress up in new green
A novel season trespasses
in the familiar yearly round
masking us
from bare-faced days
California poet Victoria Crawford lives in Thailand and has been under Stay At Home rules for almost 2 months. Like most people, she is getting lots of rest and has more time to write and cook from scratch. Her poems have appeared in places like Canary, Cargo Lit, Poetry Pacific, and Hektoen International.
califragile.org 