How quickly it comes, now, this thing called spring:
Crocuses suddenly splatter bank in violet and blue
Blackbirds burst out with twilight tunes as
Bats trawl back and forth for rising flies proving
This apparent death of winter weather is true.
Considering I was sledding in a village near where this photo was taken yesterday on this very day last year, I only hope a blast of snow doesn’t kill the flowers unfolding, nor catch the bats too early out of hibernation.
Posted on February 3, 2020, in Ecology, nature, poetry, Uncategorized, Writing and tagged bats, birds, birdsong, blackbird, climate, climate breakdown, climate change, crocuses, flowers, nature, outdoors, poems, seasons, songbirds, spring, winter. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.
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