Winter’s snow melts as the warmth delicately, hesitantly, spreads over it, at times so bright.
I shield my eyes or look away.
Small streams of ice-cold water trickle down the drive, little lines exploring.
Longing to leave winter coats, hats, mittens behind, but warmth hasn’t engulfed me yet.
Agitation, cold white stillness, slowly replaced.
First by brown, soon pokes of green leaves, purple.
Peace of color. Yellow rays of sun cradling us in its warmth once again.
Original poem. Property of Tricia at Mom is the Only Girl. Do not copy.