Words sprang from fatal arrows,
Killing the victim from the inside.
Words sprang from early flowers,
Showing beauty as soon as they can.
Words sprang from the soaring birds,
Looking for a firm place to land.
Words sprang from my foggy mind,
Twisting and bending in shapely swirls.
Words sprang onto paper and left to dry,
Hoping a feeling will somehow shoot forth.
© 2017 Valerie Hathaway