The first day of spring;
Strong winds blow the layered clouds;
Pines bow and tremble.
Snow field is melting
Leaving small uncertain pools
Rippled by the wind.
By the roaring stream,
Small pool is trapped by tree roots
And whirls round and round.
Bared by the melting snow
Forlorn basketball appears;
It has lost its bounce.
Branches on the ground
Crashing from the tops of trees;
Wind does spring cleaning.
Dead limbs hang and lie
On the rocks and in the woods.
Make way for the spring!
Still the dead leaves cling
Through winter and now March winds;
Are they immortal?
Soft insistent snow
Has pushed back the iron fence--
Nature's persistence.
Robin in the field
Hopping and pecking for worms
Knows not it's cliché.
No comments:
Post a Comment