on breezes of brown winter, blowing
promises of springtime and green. She bends
and bows with the tossing of the trees, laughing
at scowling human faces. She pinches
cheeks and turns them red with cold; her needle
sews a white blanket over hopes of early spring.
Author Bio:
Sarah Burton began writing poetry at the age of three, dictating poems to her mother. A prolific writer, she enjoys experimenting with a variety of poetic forms. She holds a BS in Anthropology, BA in Religion, and MA in Systematic Theology. She lives in Michigan with her husband Kevin.