Relentless days of unknown spring
Harsh and sweet
Scent of life
Scent of death
Days of cloudless clarity
Delight in the return of the birds
Twigs in their beaks
Days of gray dome
Bone shuddering cold
Hard rain and snow
Even the daffodils are ugly
Will rebirth triumph
Will death’s gray clutch
Sink into forever winter
A tulip not yet open
Hangs it’s head and sighs
Trees still empty
Today are whisper silent
Even the crow, dull under gray ceiling
Is mute
It is resurrection
The phoenix rising
From a long winters’ ash
Giving song to feathered flight
Or is it the last spike
Driven deep
Into earth’s crusty flesh