The house is clean,
vacuumed, dusted,
polished, fresh…
iron angel propping open
the front door…
sunlight leaning in,
drawing a warmed rectangle
on the entry floor…
breeze sighing
through the open window…
and suddenly
on its breath
I catch
the unmistakable tang
of coming change.
Had I not seen
this morning
how far back in my
Almanac for the Soul
the bookmark rests,
I could yet believe
what is coming
might be spring.
Ann L. Keiffer
October, 2018
Image Credit: Digital Collage by Ann Keiffer
