Despondency

Late winter Endless winter Trees lay bare branches across the grey sky Their leaves dried by March wind Brown as putrid skin Ground squirrels scurry round Hunting up buried nuts Some climb trees to very top Lookouts for predators Birds don't know which way to fly A pile of white feathers lay Where a famished hawk devoured its prey And three great black crows Sit in the everlasting pine With shrieking comment all morning long This a daily ritual While at noon one may see O'er bent the rot and lingering snow An old old couple Out with rake and hoe Trying to inveigle spring