buds around you
sunlight fierce as July
while snow still lingers in blue shade:
you give full-fledged in strong birdsong
bulb-shoots, sudden crocus
gray rain washing
A mirror cinquain for the March poetry slam at yeah write.
When I was small, not much bigger than a pollywog,” said Frog, “my father said to me, ‘Son, this is a cold, gray day but spring is just around the corner.’ I wanted spring to come. I went out to find that corner…” (Arnold Lobel, Frog and Toad All Year)