Spring isn't yet.
Only one robin has been seen
Boldly claiming his old perch.
Winter is over.
The garage is no longer the
Second refrigerator.
This is a different season.
This is a season of anything can happen.
We wait.
We hope.
We dream.
We wonder.
But Spring isn't yet.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem