Sleep, Then Awaken

When all the flowers have gone to sleep
my eyes will fill with sorrow.
When all the leaves have dried in fall
my eyes wait for tomorrow.
The cold of winter chills my bones
and brings dull pictures to see.
Stick-like forms like brittle bones
feel the chill like me.
Barren gardens devoid of color
await their chance to become
awakened in the month of May
with new flowers, one by one.

poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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