There I long… awaiting first spring
in its muddy melt of low marsh;
to listen for its whistling breath
after cruel winter’s lengthy death.
It’s here I feel sun’s first soft stretch
in longing buds atop bare limb;
branches which crackle, curse, and crunch
from winter’s folly, piercing punch.
I love to gaze upon March’s marsh
where feathered frenzy fill dark tree’s;
whose silhouette stand strong in skies,
as hope of spring in my soul flies!
I’m pushing the month along today over at dVerse later this afternoon? Happy Valentine’s Day!