New Green,
Fresh Blossoms,
And Snow;
Improbable
It would seem.

And yet
I've known it
So often,
It must be
A proof of spring:

A growing
That cannot
Be bounded,
And beauty that
Can't be contained,

Engulfed in
White hoar
Of a season
Failed, yet
Resisting the change.

04/26/2003

Author's Note: So often poetry centers on the scene, the season, and sex. This one is an obvious allegory.

Posted on 04/27/2003
Copyright © 2024 Leonard M Hawkes