For Sandie, a poem

For Sandie, a poem.
 
Spring came in the back door;
Tendrils of green sweetness,
Damp earth and cut grass
Flowing in on a cool breeze.
I'd expected Winter still;
Braced for the blast
Of frosty, sterile air,
I stood and sniffed.
Few signs were there;
The trees stood naked,
Twigs bare and hard,
No swelling of their buds.
But I could smell Spring,
Hear her in the birdsong,
Feel her in the moving sky
Where pink and blue mingled
With rain-soaked grey.
Winter, go home now:
The battle is lost
And Spring is winning.
pict0257
I wrote the poem above for my friend Sandie, who lives in Detroit, and who finds winter as depressing as I do!!

 

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