whispers of spring

Hyacinth garden

nothing lives, nothing is born
something so bare
snow flies silently
through the crisp night air

albino residing

winter has no luck of life

no way to see love gleaming
the sorrow of night
old spirit left wanting


nudge the insomniac crescent moon
articulate mornings voice

and still,

it is so still this chilled air
scattered flurries, hurry the color grey

like a dirge without music

I can feel a tremble

in seasons Persephone promised
it strides unbroken,
it prompts this route
to listen for whispers of spring from inside earth's foundation 



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