When wildflowers peek through the damp, leafy forest floor,
windows are flung wide open,
welcoming in the cool, lake breezes
and the smells of spring in the land’s reawakening,
like the thawing corral, heavy with sweet-smelling muck
flung here and there by high-spirited ponies.
Impatient to walk barefoot across the newly sprung lawn
emerging from the still cold ground,
I make tracks across the yard to the edge of the bluff, and back
and coat my toes in mud and early grass.
Spreading spring throughout the house.
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Author: Anne Celano Frohna
I am a writer, a mother of two girls, Eva (21) and Sophia (19) and wife to one husband, Kurt.
I was mostly a professional writer and editor for 25 years for graphic arts and advertising, for publishers of newspapers, magazines, books, etc.,. Now, I have this blog where I post my creative non-fiction, short stories, a couple of illustrated children's stories and a comedy I wrote about two years I spent teaching English in rural Japan (NOT a story for a child.).
I also have a shop on Etsy called ChannelingNonna where I’m selling the many vintage treasures I’ve collected over the years and continue to hunt down at thrift stores and yard sales.
View all posts by Anne Celano Frohna