Walking through the browned and wilted grass of the winter field
staring at the steely sky
watching gray edged clouds skitter behind
the skeletal tree limbs
reaching their fingers towards the filtered sun
Feeling the pale sunlight barely warming my skin
and the light brush of a breeze
across the hairs upon my head
Trying to absorb some springtime
between the winter rays
Fluffy green pine branches
yellow tinged leaves
cushions of crisp and crunchy beneath my feet
A insistent tweeting from the branches overhead
a quiet humming from a bee
as it cruises through my winter dead garden
and the slush and hush of wet traffic whispers through the air
Breathe deep
smell the smoky, distant smell
of winter's retreat
Glimpse the greening
See the swelling
Feel the trembling
of the earth about to burst
into springtime
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