The March sky still wears its wintry glow.
The sun rises on the nearby lake.
Pale light filters into our backyard.
The ground begins its thaw.
There is tender and muddy earth.
Islands of snow sing their final note.
Decomposing leaves lay mosaic paths
along the old, chainlink fence.
The few, small cedars are dressed in muted green.
The wind is breathless,
the tiny naked saplings are statues.
djvichos 
Reading Mary Oliver was a good opening to your day if it led to writing this beautiful poem! So many images, I see the light and sights as winter gives way to an early spring. All is soft, filtered, muted, transitional.
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Any day that starts with Mary Oliver and some poetry is a good day. Hmmm, which book are you reading? Her poetry certainly turns your eye to the outdoors. I felt like I was looking out the window with you as I read your poem. From the wintry skies to the sapling statues, I felt winter making its final stand.
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Hi Cathy. I was reading her book Dream Work.
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This is lovely. What a poetic day you’re having. Thanks for the inspiration.
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