I stood at dusk to watch dark creep
Down a moment later than the night before.
Rags of snow tugged my shoes;
The pearl grey eastern sky
Soothed me with budding calm.
Sharp-toothed wind cut through
The shawl tossed swiftly on,
But beneath the threatened chill
Lay a touch of warmth,
Spring’s first whispered secret
Melting snow like cotton candy on the tongue.
The grass is brown and dead.
Garden earth, stone to the shovel;
But tonight, seconds shorter than the last,
Has given itself away:
The Light returns
And we turn, too,
Once more to warmth