In Like a Lioness
A shrewish March wind horangs the night
like a carousing husband
tossing stray sticks down alleys.
Dicey bits of street refuse
fight with the upward thrust
of crocus and daffodil
spearing the bosom of frost heaves.
The world seems torn with indecision.
scratching and clawing at the overcast night.
Battalions of crisply dead brown leaves
surge toward gutters
clogging the escape routes
of winter's troops and the rain.
Soon, Spring will rip new life
from the dripping jaws of Winter
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2011
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