Sunday, February 24, 2013

Poetic Bloomings Borrowed Line

As Calendar Pages Turn 

I hear reports
from various places
of sunshine and rain,
tulips and daffodils,
nest-building birds,
wonderful walks
in warm embracing air.

But here in Colorado
the mountains draw near,
speckled with white
against the gray sky.
Snow on north side piled high.
Winter wind whispers
“More to come.” 

The tangled bare branches,
like tightfisted misers,
refuse to bud. So I sit,
afghan-wrapped, dreaming
of bike rides, hikes, picnics
in blossom-scented breezes,
and I wait for winter to give up.


I wait for winter to give up from Judy Roney’s Charcoal Days, Prompt #90

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