Not Yet


the birds are chirping

calling for spring

yet snow covers the ground

the warmth of the sun on the back 

calling for spring

yet biting wind strikes the face

the tips of the branches hold tiny buds

yet the tree looks cold and and bare

the afternoons are lighter, brighter

yet the chill hangs on

the leaves of the bulbs appear

yet the flowers stay hidden


not yet


10 thoughts on “Not Yet”

  1. Not yet, but soon, right? You’ve captured this transitional time so well in your poem. I noticed some pussy willows and buds just this weekend–while I was wearing my down coat and a hat and maneuvering through the snow!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. The yet, yet, yet followed by the not yet pulled me along and then stopped me cold. Takes a little longer for that spring to answer the call here in Maine. Patiently waiting!! Thanks for this enticing slice!


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