They Will Haunt the Spring

Wind chill minus two;
The sun looks bright and cheery.
Walk? Am I crazy?

It's Yerry Hill Road;
The sign tells me that it is.
(I don't believe it.)












Snow covered fire wood
Doesn't show the heat it gives;
Sitting neatly stacked.


Blinding sun and ice--
The distant sound of rippling:
The freezing stream flows.







Concentric circles
Forming neatly in the snow
Document the past.












Pine cone and needles
Lie together on the road
:Like they belong there.

Dead trees along road
Standing like stiff sentinels
At strict attention.









They are still hanging:
Ephemeral ghost seed puffs.
They will haunt the Spring.