winter is slow to release her hold

the fresh green poppies

are topped with white

nothing moves but the ice flakes

falling from a monotone sky

trees still wait stubborn, anxious

to end their long sleep

the bears are beginning to stir

groggy and hungry

i have seen robins in the yard

the vultures have returned

bucks are dropping their antlers

all the signs are here

we can but wait

Copyright Michael Douglas Scott