Complex Spring

Waiting for spring to return this winter’s day.
Straining to touch warm breezes of the past.
Caught in this prison of grey and white.
Wishing to break these dark chains that hold me.

Remnants of fall crumpled like brown paper on the ground.
Straws of pale brown growing up through the snow, it’s dry.
Seeds and freeze-dried fruit lay scattered about under trees.
Bare limbs and stalks drip with liquid glass.

Trees hanging bare, grey in lifelessness.
Winter birds call out, single in their pursuit of leftover meals.
Tracks of animals unknown dot the landscape with patchwork.
Waves of ridges etched in the white lead off to nowhere.

Sparse, sun-filled days bring brief glimpses of hope.
With the promise of warmth waiting to banish the cold
that holds me to my past and this existence;
waiting for spring to return and thaw this frozen heart.

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