Where art thou, o Spring!

Freezing Hot by Sunita Khedekar

Our spring colors are grey.

And white. And mud. There!

A flash of blue. Blue jay!


March roared in like a lion.

And stayed. Prowling. Roar!

Cold. Snow. Rain. No spring!


Colors washed, faded, to grey.

Our hearts stay warm. Inside!

Rich reds, blues. Purple. Green!


We so long for green. For color.

Sending love. Up. up. UP!

Spring, come back, we miss you!


Red tail lights under the Trickster Moon.

Coyote laughing. Winter’s last days.

Geese fly ’round in vain. No water here!


Spring, like our hearts, awaits the time.

The time to fly. To bloom. To rise!

Winter holds on tight. Too tight!


Windows stay shuttered. Blind.

I won’t watch it snow again. AGAIN!

Sleet mimics rain. So cruel a tease.


A patch of last year’s grass, dead green.

We stare at it. Does it get bigger? Yet?

Even the horses lust for it. Ache.


I’d trade this piled high white and grey.

Trade it for warm brown. Dusty hues.

Colored pencils become a bouquet.


Red hearts rising from chimneys dark.

Windows closed against the cold.

Spring, we are waiting. Come! Come!


Grace has us working with the lovely, and inspiring art of Sunita, and she did have us talking about spring and colors. Well. WELL! Our spring so far has been 50 shades of grey, and we are lusting for something more. Something green. Something muddy. Something NOT snow. NOT white. NOT grey. Drifts shrink too slowly and the warmth is more a tease than something deeper. I’m sure my poetic counterparts have brighter spring words for you, why don’t you head over and check them out?


Wind lifting feathers


book pages on the side

of the road flutter like

the wind lifting the

feathers of a dead bird,

I pass by and mourn both.


I pass the river where the

snapping turtle lives and

wonder how she fares

and if she will wander

again come spring in

her larger than life

shell across the road.


Who encourages the

encouragers? Cares

for the ones who give

care? Who holds up

those who hold us

up? How can we

say we didn’t know?


Birds sit hopeful

on last year’s

bowed sunflower

heads. Soon my

feathered friends.



It is Open Link Night for dVerse Poets Pub. There are some great poems already going live on blogs from all over. Stop by, read some poetry and leave some love. Share your own, it’s open to all poets!¬†

Today I am musing about things I saw on my drive yesterday, and the memories certain places bring up. Some are short enough to be #micropoetry and others not quite.

Warmer Weather coming




Puffed up against the cold, feathered friends await the spring sun.

Packed up the Christmas tree, I can’t help but wonder where next we’ll be.

Minus 20 seems warm after weeks of 30 below: winter woes.

Frozen ears, tail and feet, wincing at his pain. He purrs. He is alive.

Fight the cold. Fight the faltering of faith. Live to seek the sun. The Son.

Warmer weather coming. A promise on a radar map. Skeptic waits.

Much to be done. Little desire to do. The battle rages inside.

Jack’s compass I need to see, my heart’s longing to lead me – but where?


A little late to the pub for the post holiday season #OLN (Open Link Night) for dVerse. Stop by and read some poetry. Share your own. Leave love. Always leave love.

Reflections of spring

Early spring melt reveals

spiderwebs from the floating in fall

sunshine encourages buds

warm air dances

and chilly rain falls

it is still early spring.

Spring sunshine shows

how the earth tilts

sun further away now

but the rays more direct.

Raindrops run down backs

shivers run down necks

Better than snow

they say.

It is true.

Early spring aches of hope.

Shivers in the sunshine.

Dances in the rain.

Bursts forth with birds and song.

Copyright 2012 Shanyn Silinski.

Linking up at dVerse Poetics.  Check for more great poems and poets!