Hope
The stark reality of bare limbs sillouhetted against
goosedown gray skies
is in itself beautiful and awesome to behold.
Winter shows itself time and again,
never ending, punctuated occasionally by
a warm trend lasting but a few days at best.
Old man winter, when will you give up the ship?
When will you recede and concede to the hope
of what will be?
Warm weather springing forth from under the cold,
hard mantle of earth.
It will change soon enough, I fear, and we will say,
"Where did the time go?"
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