POETRY

New Beginnings in Tahoe

There is longing in new beginnings. Spring’s daffodils unfurl and bloom, pining over a waning moon, rising on the carefree banks of Donner, trumpeting in silent wonder. A heart rises and then falls.

There is comfort in new beginnings. Snug summer rays stretch and recline, drenching brows in clear beads of time, inciting a pitter, patter of feathers; wings take flight across false heather. I hear your fleeting call.

There is regret in new beginnings. Pine green hues slowly fade and fall; trees stand barren amidst it all, inviting fall’s breath to creep and claim the night; creatures stealthily slip from sight. Nature’s buoyant reign stalls.

There is quiet in new beginnings. Whitewashed valleys and rising peaks; the winter wind begins to speak, boldly barking with wrath and icy scorn, then silence greets the chilly morn. I hear no sound at all.