Fourteen lines

Poem written for a workshop I host; the prompt was Nature:

Because I refuse to count my beats

And play with rhyming schemes

These fourteen lines will never be

A fucking sonnet nature poem

Carolina wren song ascends

Clear notes welcome in the day

Dew sparkles during morning prayer

Soon it may become ice crystal frosting

Spring’s promise in the melting

Trees mark time with their sway

Frogs burrow in for winter

Yuletide begs me light a fire in our yard

Carolina wren song ascends

My chilly soul begins to soar

12-16-24