We were eleven walking
Under a sky that held promise of a heaven beyond the blue
and belied the raging winds of last night –
the only evidence remaining being broke trees and downed traffic lights
Shed of winter layers, we headed west, our arms swinging free
Susan, Shelley, Lynn, Sherry, Danielle, Linda, Barb, Fiona, Philippa, Joanne, and Diane (that’s me).
The spring flowers, just daring to grow, have names too
but, like my walkers, I really know them by their beauty.
Wishing all who are in Sunday’s race a good one. Finally feels like spring is really here to stay.