Song For Spring
Snow shoaling o'er the frozen land,
so biting, bitter cold; broken branches
stretched like fingers pointing nowhere
in particular articulate the miseries
of winter's stranglehold.
Spring seems a light year gone,
her gentle breath a dream, but green
shall conquer white and overcome
its crushing hold when the crocus
once reveals her lovely sheen!
Copyright © Keith Bickerstaffe | Year Posted 2006
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