foliage stripped and trunk blasted by ice and snow
waited for the forgotten touch of spring
thought to died from the cold
winter a scourge to the soft and tender
at last a breath of warmth
swells of sap
the strenghthening sun
feeling the desire to become
bursting into bud
embellishing the bright day
green moving upwards
towards gold and red gold
a haze of longing not to be kept waiting
bursting at last into the day
resting in the bright regard of the moon
dreaming of tomorrow’s  delight
bringing forth boldly the flags of spring

Louie Spooner Bucklin  copyright 2015


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