who is this in the mirror...

I see her
slowly waking from a long lazy stupor,
she sheds layer after layer
of drab woolen garments
opening herself to the fecund promise of September
casting off the last vestiges of solemn sobriety
expectation sun-light gold in her eyes, she steps
into lace and silks - colored freesia, marigold and sky blue
her eyes delight in the fertile vista that is Spring
She is me, I am her - coiled, eager.

~~~


This is not written to the Potluck theme this week. But, just maybe it might fit with a little imagination.
Happy Monday Potluck to all.  :))


Love,

Eaton