From bedroom windows
I cannot see any snow;
It's not April fool.

In the gray sunlight
Pine trees are swaying softly.
It's time to go out.


The faded peace sign
Hangs behind the old ladder
Like aged buddies.

Tire print in the mud
Like prehistoric finding
Sent to museums.


In tangled bushes
Birds nest survived the winter.
Where's "Vacancy" sign?

The gray dry stream bed
Winds thirsty into the woods--
No snow; no water.


Gentle wind echo
Tickles the top of pine trees
And touches my face.

This tiny snow drop
Blooms with the passing of snow;
Winter's remembered.