Sunday Morning, lockdown

In the wedding of springtime
The pink confetti petals fall
Heaped along the streets
Along the dusty walls

You can scoop them up by the handful
And throw them in the air
For an imaginary wedding
Taking place somewhere

I looked at the tree
In awesome wonder
Its sweet pink blossom
A springtime philtre

The summer breeze blows and whispers
“Throw your confetti over the bride”
But the street is strangely deserted
And the people are locked down inside

Author: blackbird212012

I am interested in multimedia work: songwriting, art, and creative writing. I have been involved also in theatre and music performances.

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