Spring is an embryo in the womb of winter. Incubating under the meringue like tips of wind tossed snow. What began with flower
and bee is now sown.
under the snow
after the cold winds—
It seems improbable as the cold white mounds grow higher
and deeper, that they might ever be gone, like the season
in which they live.
snow banks melting
the plowman’s winter labor—
puddles on the road
Slowly, the messy mating of late winter and early spring
muddy the road through the orchard while crocus, daffodil,
and fiddleheads peek through the soil, birthed from winter’s womb.
long shadows shorten
the warmer sun lingers--
Soon the womb will be ripe again, but for now, the children
of spring play.
Feb. 10, 2013