We've shuffled off the coil of snow, only to be assaulted by cold winds that make us feel it's snowing somewhere near-by. Could it be we have gone from spring to late autumn in the space of a week?
I wish I was there. I remember springs like this
Spring is coming slow as if on a tiptoe....
Why Do I Do This?Again I have passedyou by, keeping solitudeinstead of droppingoff the roundabout,the posted route to spring and thaw,merging left instead.
A spring poem that pulls no punches: honestly, the start (especially in your part of the world, I imagine) can be pretty rough before the sun and flowers.
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