And gray dawn slipping through
The oaks and maples,
Leafless, reaching toward bleak winter sky,
As they stand poised for spring’s gentle justice.
A dusting of snow
Has settled on the branches.
Crows, one, then another, south to north
Across this frozen tableau,
Raucous voices cutting
Through the snow muffled day.
I will rise, coffee in hand ,
To greet the day
And maybe, bare foot and brash,
Step onto the chilled snowy deck
To say farewell to winter.
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