leaning
in scanty sun,
the slender
crocus petals
cupping tiny suns,
shoulder on through
crowding snow, damp
compacted, rotting leaves
piled from autumn past,
to blindly believe, with
perennial trust,
in Mother Nature’s
ancient ways, each
budding bulb
pushing forth
a show of
hope
I retired from public school teaching after happily spending twenty eight years playing in Kindergarten. Now I fill my days watching cat antics, taking endless...
