Lyric

A song to Spring, you lost wanderer.

 In March the wild-rose twigs blazed scarlet above the snow,

And new gold curls dressed the willow tree’s tips, dancing in frigid air.

Warblers and geese returned,

And at night under crisp stars, a squishy chorus of tiny frogs rose from the thawing bog. 

All proclaimed: Winter’s back is broken!

 And we took heart, believed. And waited. 

 Still.

Related Posts
No image
Ideas meet needs in revitalizing rural Maine
No image
Cutler students invite veterans to school Nov. 9
No image
Whitneyville Library news