Creosote bushes frame the edges on Sunrise Drive.
Mulberry feathers open from
bottom branches of trees in the plaza.
Pink flowers are dampened by fountain spray
where St. Philip stands,
cross in hand
as Lenten Bells ring:
It’s time for penance.
I give up nothing.
Instead,
I open to the season
teasing me to trust,
to wander a bit off the well-worn path
considering--
how it would feel to fly like the red-tailed hawk
searching for prey,
finding it--
outside the shadows.
(from Poets & Writers Prompt, March/April 2017)
