While buds are waiting to renew, a long and nasty winter reigns, its chill is sweeping through the plains, for spring again is overdue. Bare branches linger in a queue that's filled with nature's growing pains; when sunshine overcomes its chains the vernal season will debut. The psyche of the world relies on seasons changing right on time; without our seeing sunny skies we feel abused by Nature's crime. and finally with cold's demise we bask in glowing warmth, sublime.
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AuthorJack has published over 350 poems in his career, many with his own photography. He specializes in a view of the commonplace and Americana. Archives
March 2021
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