Something about the forty something temperature
the warm rain yesterday, the melting snow and ice
made my mind wander to springtime once more
to the feel, the smell, the tactile luxury
in freshly turned soil, easing its will
to the spade, the trowel, willingly giving
itself for the planting of the flowers
to bloom oh so shortly, up from the rich sol
A hope of the spring to come
nascent in the warmth of the day
reminding us of the shortness of the seasons
and every season in its time
December 12, 2007
(Raymond A. Foss)
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