Naked trees,
vacancy in our landscape.
We abide,
patience tested, winter’s
protracted wrath.
Waiting
for the warmness
encouraging growth,
and colour, and
inspiration.
Spring denied,
a void in our lives.
In the meantime
we survive
with an extra sweater, or
two, cold hands, and
the hope for change.

j.g.l.
04/03/2018