Green among the brown oak leaves,
renewed flora struggles from winter sleep.
Long days, short nights, bright skies,
aromas of growth infuse warm air.
Surprise snow warnings are forecast
to the bemused doubtful populace.
By morning thumb-nail size flakes stick
to pine needles and bare oak branches.
The green stalks still visible, peep
boldly through the veneer of white.
Eons of seasons have taught them,
they are fit enough to survive this.
The sun is high in the bright blue,
cleansing new growth emerges.
As our world becomes renewed,
we marvel at the beauty we are given.
"Green stalks still visible, peep
bold through the veneer of white"
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