Looking Up From the Bottom of Winter

Shoulders hunched against the storm
Ice bouncing off my chest
I saw a hopeful sight one morn’
A cold and frozen nest

An icicle hung from the right
Snow was heaped upon the rim
It looked to be in sorry plight
It’s chances they looked very grim

But the tree held fast to it’s groom
Refusing to let it fall
It knew a change was coming soon
(Though I couldn’t feel it at all)

That nest will be full in mere weeks
Winter is on the run
The birds are flying north as we speak
Bringing grass and bugs and sun

The trees and lawn may seem stay
Forever cold and brown
The April sun is on its way
Wearing an emerald crown

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