A Promise

The clouds held

dirt from yesterday,

dimming the blue

to a dingy gray

that met me

after the sun

rose somewhere

behind the murkiness,

but my eyes fell

on the blooming

pear tree, the simple,

life-lit green, 

white cups holding

a spray of pink,

a promise, a budding

of spring.

—C.L. Fisher, March 2021

Unless otherwise indicated, all content, including writing and images, are the work of C.L. Fisher and may not be copied, used, or distributed without permission.

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