almost close enough to touch
out in this barren land
where the song of the whistling robin
is muffled by damp and cold
these last vestiges of winter linger
as I fall to my knees and pry loose
petals captured by early April snow
earthen clay clings to my chapped skin
is it no wonder that I take secret pleasure
in outwitting this frozen heart
I push aside decaying leaves in dormant trees
to reveal a nest of fragile blue eggs
I celebrate rebirth in a quiet corner of the yard
by the fire pit that no longer burns
and listen to the unmaking of a dream
that is eternal winter
photo: mine
prompts: The Sunday Whirl, Poetic Asides PAD Challenge, #NaPoWriMo2018, MLMM Sunday Writing Prompt
Poet's Corner 