as the days turn longer, all the silent moments are now punctuated with a realization that the darkness is receding. things are all the more apparent in the lasting light. on a brief walk through the nearly empty streets of an upscale neighborhood, i ponder over the sight of the golden trumpet vine on an expansive property that has taken over the metal handrails and old red bricks, seemingly growing even further with every passing second, as if it is going to consume the entire form and structure of this house. i wonder what its occupants would think of it. this March, i am not going to look for answers.
March comes like madness —
the bright golden flowers glare
at the passerby
~
March’s mad weather —
a frail little bud drops down
by a sudden breeze
.
© Anmol Arora
For Haibun Monday: March Madness at dVerse
HA's Place 