On the eve of Spring,
the earth is a dirty place!
A rowdy Fall seems to have
flung things here and there
and Winter stubbornly refused
to pick them up.
The result is a sad chaos
of decaying leaves, abandoned nests
and an impressive assortment of litter
from some drunken teenage party.
Twigs and broken branches
are strewn like tiny corpses
on the ground.
Emerging from the dead,
Spring instinctively will come
bringing with it
an elixir of cleansing rain.
Following the purge,
rejuvenation is conceived.
Every long-forgotten seed
soon starts to grow, and the
landscape will change
before our eyes.
But for now, trees bend
like little old men,
crippled by harsh winds
and the burden of snow.
From their stooped position,
they lift their weathered faces
toward the sun – as we all do,
on the eve of Spring.
Grammy Writes 
Beautiful. Hopes spring from a certain sadness.
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I agree! Thanks so much.
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My pleasure.
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Love this. Well penned!
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I appreciate that, Sandy! Thank you.
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My pleasure.
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Simply loved your poem. You seem to master conjuring up imagery and one’s senses.
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I’ve always liked descriptive words! Thanks so much for the comment.
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That was really wonderful how you sketched down the nature around us!
I’d be very glad if you could visit my blog and read my latest romantic poetry!
https://wp.me/p9xC6h-8v
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Nice writing on your blog!
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