TRANSITION
Here on the cusp of spring
The foxy Prince of Darkness
Will retreat to his lonesome lair
Leaving the fair Persephone
To soften the icy winds
And water the snowbanks down.
March has come in like a lion
And is leaving like T Rex.
Polar glaciers dissolve:
The cold descends to us.
We cheer to see the grass
Emerge from rotting snow.
The jay and the chickadee lisp
Their piece to potential mates.
But Persephone will do well
To free us from winter’s clutch.
The light at the end of the tunnel
MAY be the summer’s sun
And Persephone MAY return
To her darksome winter home.
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