Buds

 

Buds

Sparrows

Defy cold

Fickle winter

Sensing springs approach

Something man never could

Having lost touch with nature

Too absorbed with things of this world

He is merely along for the ride

Technology and ignorance stunt him

Now he must live as a passenger

Trusting meteorology

A most imperfect science

To decipher nature

While birds and buds thrive

In harmony

with instincts

That man

Lost

 

~~ Dominic DiFrancesco ~~

 

To Feel The Soil

To feel the soil

Rich and warm between fingers

Man planting his seed

Nurturing healthy body

With the fruits of his labor

For millennia

This was mans way to survive

Living off the land

We’ve lost our time tested path

Through the chaos–modern life

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

 

Survivors

estrellas

A thin rain

Falls upon arid ground

Seemingly lifeless

Springs to life

A million tiny survivors

Sprouting and blossoming

Giving color to the melancholy

Vital for brief a time

Scorched by heat and sun

Withering, dying

Blowing to the four winds

Hibernating

“Til winters rains return

~~ D. R. DiFrancesco ~~