20 degrees

It is warm

and we spend the afternoon watching bees,

gathering sticks to burn, 

making believe we're hobbits,

reading poems about "Spring" fireside, 

and climbing trees.

dog wood

The wind still blows briskly

and the buds seem loath to appear

as April scurries past.

finally

the promise within

silver baubles

Inside the silver baubles

is the promise of tomorrows and new seasons

and new life.

and if one looks carefully,

one's self,

renewed this day, and the next....

waiting

The dreary days seem to stretch on, 

perhaps only because we've been so spoiled before.

But cold and wet and wind sculpts,

and twists and creates splendor.

april

somehow April has appeared,

 out of nowhere..

and roses stand in vases
while snow still swirls outdoors.