Perspectives through Prose, Poetry and Photography
A weathered greenhouse, built to shield, protect
young specimens within, from wintry wind,
To magnify and golden rays project,
Injuring seedlings from the seasons’ clime.
Hardy pots reside outside, aligned
along the curb, or sheltered from the fray,
Beneath the wooden, weathered, a-framed splines,
Broad streaks of silver, aging shades of gray.
Ironically these planks once lived their day,
as those they now protect from such a fate,
‘Til hewn, fresh green; stripped, sanded, hauled away,
To live again, roof boards above the gate.
I cannot know the span of life and times,
I can but only read between the lines.
Weekly Photo Challenge: Weathered
Very beautiful, as winter comes and we await spring, the cycle of lie love it eileen
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