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Fledging Spring
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At long last, hibernal's fury begrudgingly concedes to spring tide. The fields, once blanketed by a mantle of white, now resemble no man's land, muddied and bare. A single robin sets in a state of sulky dissatisfaction, insecure in its decision to return.
Courageous daffodils, like concealed snipers, discreetly peer out among decaying leaves. Morning brings the sunlight a little sooner than yesterday, tarrying slightly longer before dusk. The fledgling spring, struggling to gain a foothold, grows stronger each day.
on the edge of spring
light enters in a new way
awaken my soul
Copyright ©
Sara Etgen-Baker
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