Passing Of Winter

Alas I digress as the last winds of winter die behind the mountains

And the soft snow of December melts upon the grass

Children run to gather shirts and shorts  putting coats and heavy snow boots away for another day

But dose anyone morn the passing of snow

Of chilled winter breezes and icicles on roof and tree

The Sun pokes his fingers to the snow carressing the life back into the cold death ridden earth

As Mr. Winter goes to burrow

Far from all the sun and warm breezes

I sigh and count the days till his return

As I count a frigged rain reminds me

That April has yet to come

And with it come showers of sapphire jewel and teal drops from the heavens

To keep him vital in his bed of vines and thorns

With splendors of vivid grays and whites

He’ll slumber waiting, listening to my count down