Not yet Spring,
Timid, anxious I wait
My white lace cape
Melding, melting, mellowed
Into gracious red clay
On the eve of Spring,
In profound anticipation
I—yearn?
Green, silent buds,
Yearning for music of succulent pink
Soon, it will be Spring,
When buzzing bees linger-
Attentive!
Distant, hazy ‘til then,
The lull of the blossoms
For now, dining with Tantalus
-M.K.
