
Winter hesitates
To leave us now
Even as the summer solstice
Swings towards us.
Every day longer
Than the last,
May moon bearing down.
Drifts still heave
Across roads,
Hide under willow shadows,
Crust in wind blown heaps.
Shimmering curves
Tracing north slope hilltops,
Mocking green meadows.
Buds push toward
Dreams of leafy lushness
Nipped at night by cold
Zipping them up tight.
Sunshine finally bearing down
Warmth coaxing that first
Fine green to burst forth.
Springs surge up,
Trickles grow into torrents
Streams press into creeks,
The river pushing its banks
And beyond, soaking meadows
The roar replacing, finally
Winter’s long frozen silence.
Ruth Hellman
September 26, 2012 at 8:44 AM
This really captures the pent-up-ness of early spring in high country. And finally, the noisy joyful release. Wonderful.