Imbolg or not, Winter is still lurking about if not lashing out.
So here's a poem about that.
SPRING
Last week
temperatures soared unseasonably.
But we knew
you weren’t gone
in a dragon
puff of smoke.
We knew
you’d be back
wreaking
your monstrous ire.
Your tail
toppling bins, roofs, trees,
dropping
leaves like scales,
scattering
dismembered branches.
Your breath
freezing footpaths,
threatening
elbows and ankles,
beheading
precocious green shoots
that dare
to think…
Spring???
Copyright with Cathy Leonard 2016
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