The Bee Tree In Spring

Hard to believe how many 
have passed 
since winter cackled
cracked brittle boughs

and ice slowly strangled
the lake

How long ago we trod
that (seemly) slippery slope 
past rasping branches
Wordless breath-clouds wafting
grasping blue fingers stinging 
eyes watering
so cold

That rocky path 
of least resistance
now a tunnel of new green 
of birdsong and warm 
bright breathing spaces 
to feel
try to remember 
try to forget

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Originally written 4/15/15

View piscespieces's Full Portfolio