An attempt at a poem

It is the end of the first day of March and I owe my blog a poem. I have kissed this day away to another migraine. They are rare, but do attack me every now and then to remind me that I am still, if rarely, afflicted. I can't pin this one on any of my usual triggers. I don't remember having any chocolate, passing up the Girl Scout Thin Mints at work. I can't think of any citrus that I have consumed lately; I avoid that as firmly as I avoid meat, being a vegetarian. No caffeine has entered my system that I know of, so this must just have been a wayward migraine that made its way into my head in a sneak attack.

Maybe the fact that I feel attacked caused me to write the poem below. I seemed to have war on my mind. It could be from the book I am reading, A Far Off Place by Laurens Van Der Post. It is a fascinating book about living in the bush in Africa. The main characters are hiding out from a group of soldiers who are indiscriminately hunting down any human and animal in their path. It is the beginning of another senseless war in Africa. The author grew up in these parts and puts his soul into the descriptions. They come out almost like poetry.

Here is my poem, for what it's worth:

Winter Leaf

wounded and proud leaf
stubbornly stands strong
through a winter that has gone on too long

it still holds on
to the slumbering stalk
a ragged pennant decrying defeat

the wind ambushes the wayward flag
sending reconnaissance flurries
before blasting it with buckshot of rain

defying fate, it survives the onslaught
weather-worn and waving
as winter retreats with the warmth of spring