Unabated Spring

The wily Winter wind danced in the face of Spring; Chasing brittle leaves across the straw colored lawn. Whipping brittle branches from the maple trees, to fall like pick-up sticks in a childish game. The Spring sun maintained vigilance, non-pulsed by the murder of crows lining the power lines; refusing to rise to the wild winds bait. Sunshine poured like melted butter over the soggy soil attempting to lure the early risers from their sleep. Crocus’s stir.