Riff On Richard Remier's February Kiss - Poem by David McLansky
The sky a canopy of cold
In the silence where no bird sings,
Vile is winter, bitter, old,
Yet beneath the snow, what wealth springs;
The ice locked land bides ts time,
Life urges checked in dormant state
Comes the breath of warmer climes,
Green shoots surge, the snow cap breaks;
These dry and weathered walnut trees
Withered black in shielded bark
There springs a shoot, despite the freeze,
The new heard melody of the lark.
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