The sun rose
(it has a habit of doing just that)
and turned the fog orange.
Lit up diamonds of flaky snow
shining on the yard.
Caught the icy fur on the naked tree limbs
and made me think
it could be keeping the trees warm.
Mountaintops, shrouded by fog earlier,
now push against crystal blue sky
white-and-white-and-black.
Birds search the piled crunchy snow
for anything edible –
seeds, pancake crumbs, old bagels?
I’m doing my best to keep you fed, birdies.
Hang in there.
It won’t be much longer.
Trees will unfurl
grass re-emerge
worms poke up their heads
and heat reflect.
You’ll sing again, birds.
It will happen.
So excited for spring. This sunshine is a welcome friend!
Spring is smiling beneath her frost glazed cloak of white. (Hugs)Indigo
Beautiful poem, but I feel the EXACT opposite. I thrive in colder weather.
I never thought about the tree fur keeping the trees warm. I only ever saw it as deer food before but I like your way of seeing, better.
I’ll never forget your post about feeling/smelling the mud. Because I rejoice for springtime too.