Gnarled bark
brownish-red and glossy,
in cool morning sun buds wait to burst,
impatient to flaunt flowering beauty.

Branches sway
dancing to music unheard,
in late winter’s breeze grass begins to green,
birds return,
their songs portend coming spring.

Morning rises
light peaks through,
not in veil of shadow or chill unwelcoming dawn,
casting life,
painting the white walls of my room.

Life returns
cautiously optimistic
not with foolhardy glee, children play at recess,
soccer moms jog,
bundled old men amble along park lanes.

Squirrels and I
are skeptical,
having been fooled before by morning frost
reminding us of winter,
sitting under this ornamental cherry, I await its flowering beauty.

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