Even snow seems gray
On this February day.
Where has the sun gone?
The bird feeder swings
Even without any birds--
No wind--must be ghosts.
Filthy banks of snow
Bird seeds scattered on my porch--
Winter detritus.
Between the snow banks
Stream sparkles its way forward--
Cheerful melting sound.
Sounds of rushing streams
Burbling ever onward;
The world is melting.
In the dappled woods
Snow and water coexist--
Merging at border.
Forest is restless;
Birds are shouting from all sides;
Something awakens.
Young sprouts are rising
In the everflowing tub;
Is spring forever?
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