Spring Comes Slowly

Spring comes slowly this year
like the crocus just beginning to peer
from the dead earth
as gray as the sky
and the branches waving high
and barren.
In disbelief, sunlight lingers later
and buds begin to unfurl
while our hope swirls
and stutters with the cruel wishy-washy weather.
It all takes time
but change is inevitable.
Or is it? Because in a year
we'll find ourselves in the same place
again.

one week later from my window



photos by me