L'aura del Campo

Iris [176.20]

Iris

She snugged white blankets around her,
glad to snooze after too much fun
between sunsets and fawning sun.

She'd been a fragrant flirt in her youth,
as enticing as a root-beer float some said.
She'd flutter her bronze and copper petals.

Only this frigid cold provided respite.
She'd always needed months to recover.
Each thaw tried to wake her; did she dare?

Not yet. She returned to restless visions
of last year's neighbors; wondering,
would new ones move in come Spring?

She'd have to wait through freeze and thaw
till bright beams burned through drifting dreams.
Then, stretching her long green arms, she'd bloom.

© Kåre Enga [176.20] (4.april.2019)

From the Dew Drop Inn prompt: fitful sleep.
Note: there are various root-beer scented iris (a memory of my childhood), Inca Chief among them.

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