“summer blooms, winter panes”

by Jennifer Baker

I’ve never had a thumb of green

summer blooms framed in winter panes

My window lacks the sunlight seen

Dark and damp, roots begin

buried seed rising again, though

I’ve never had a thumb of green

Kaleidoscopic tones declare sanguine

flowers, hungrily reaching.

My window lacks the sunlight seen

Stubborn soil, pallid fluorescence intervenes

colder fervor, roots grow shallow

I’ve never had a thumb of green

Shadows conceal light like quarantine

the Birds of Paradise veil their faces

My window lacks the sunlight seen

From Azalea pink to Zinnia blue

and a pallet of bloom between

I’ve never had a thumb of green

My window lacks the sunlight seen

Jennifer Baker is a traveler, writer, and musician.  She has played in music festivals from Seattle to Maine; writing and cowriting many original songs along the road.  More times than not she can be seen scribbling in a journal or spending time in nature. She enjoys studying poetry and creative fiction while working her day job in healthcare near Philadelphia, PA. You can follow her on Twitter @frostglasspoet