Hints of light
suggest
Lady Sun waits
on some distant horizon
beyond illusory
mountains
of cloud
The gray
today
is heavy
like the morning
fog
descended
to muffle
my brain
But inside
we're
still growing
green
to balance
the gray
Experience
cold, merciless teacher
admonishes:
Too soon
to look
for spring
for green
for leaf and flower
for color
But hope
warm and gentle
perhaps indulgent
whispers
soon
Amid the pines
the wind
roars
loud
in my ears
a hollow howl
Back to the wind
there is
momentary stillness
as the clouds
sheer away
from the sun
What's left
is a spare beauty
the bones
and silhouettes
of flowers
framed by
grasses that
hold
the ghostly weight
of February snows
The birds
are busy
but green
still sleeps
under a matted quilt
of winter's refugees
Dawn
and an eagle circles
the open water
shadowed
by a brazen
blackbird
who darts
and dips
vigilant
Snowdrops
are blooming
in my dreams
Iris
unfurling
deep in the whorls
of my gray matter
Spring's memories
are unfolding
scenting my imaginings
with hope