metaphor

Spring Comes Slowly to an Old Orchard

A poem by Taylor | 4/22/2008

An old orchard begins to flower

though winter had almost gone
and the last remnant of frost
had just fallen from
the leaf
buds.

In the moonlight,
the branches of the old,
country orchard gleamed
like pale limbs, as if waiting
to waltz slowly
through the fields.

A northerly wind

read more