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Each season's transition, Winter is often reluctant and unruly.
It holds the howling wind and scatters snow.
It still brings the chill that exercises winter's will.
Two days ago the earth reflects Spring's glow.
How do the seasons collide when warmth just runs to hide?
The thunder-snow lays down a sheet of ice when a warmer sun will soon entice.
The turn of winter's face grows in its former place.
Time yields to barren hills and watches for brown grass to renew, but it is
the mind's eye that contains the view. A minute memory of days too few.
No promise no foolish plans reveal the budding youth of Springtime's zeal.
The song of winter's sporadic chill still intrudes on warmer wills.
The depth of winter spills, when Robins tap at my window sill.

©Allseasonsverse 2019/31/03
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