On brown flood water

Three short poems for early spring.

Photo ©Virginia State Parks staff



On brown flood water,

Buttercups nodding,

Yellow buds sleeping,

Tough roots digging,

Into cold mud.

Sharp breeze riffling,

Brown sedge greening,

Where blackbird is singing,

Spring is coming,

On the ebb tide.


Winter rose trembles

wind-plucked petals fall

to mingle with last snowflakes

in a spun sugar ballet.


Your arms full of petals,

Wrapped in a tangle

Of scented limbs,

Drowning us both

In a snowstorm

Of blue sky-painted

Spring birdsong.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

10 thoughts on “On brown flood water”

    1. As I said on your post, it’s a wonderful idea for those who don’t have families and other appendages to drag around with them. It could work with young people who are unattached bit already know what they are looking for in life. Best of luck!

  1. Blue sky-painted spring birdsong! How wonderful! I now have a wild urge to paint my ceiling blue and add some birds.

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