The Cold Tap Sings

Something in the air has changed. There’s the slightest hint of spring; the animal in us can sense it. It’s hard to explain. But I went for a walk yesterday and saw the crocuses in the park –– it’s certainly on the horizon.

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Purplish

The crocuses
Enlivened the mud

Before the squirrels
Came to eat them –

Black eyes, grey fur,
Purplish whiskers.

***

Read a WCW poem on spring here.