Awaiting Spring

February 14th 2024

The amber-brown of wilted stems

is staring back at me as

I sit on a rock beside the garden.

I thought springtime had arrived,

along with the budding of new leaves,

but perhaps I was mistaken.

The facade above unsettles me -

a sunny day with nothing to show for it -

and if the cold of winter still exists,

then I speak sternly to the sky.

Come and cover me,

you cunning clouds,

and do not break until

the world around me blooms.