Another Beautiful Day

It was too beautiful a day
to sit in class.

Worn thin, this adjective,
Like steel wool used too often
And cheapened like the girl in the
Second row; she’s just another
Beautiful face.

This day is like every other.
No clouds, and the sun
That makes us squint so
We can’t even see.
It is beautiful outside, it is March, and I
couldn’t bear to sit in class any longer.

And while all the trees are still dead,
Their limbs only sometimes resembling
The skeletons I hear them compared to,
One has bloomed, white bursts–
I’d tell you if I knew
What kind of tree it is.
To my eyes, it is pretty, unlike
Those beautiful non-skeletons.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s