Fickle Spring

Spring is a fickle friend who flirts behind her April fan,

her sunny eyes full of promise and fragile warmth;

beneath her flowing dress a white-frost petticoat

trails icy lace around the edge of new-bloomed flowers.

Do not trust her pretty fingers or soft green hands;

with them she beckons winter’s last chilling touch

and leaves frozen our hopes of summer fruit.




About grannysu

storyteller, writer, poet, gardener, countrywoman
This entry was posted in NaPoWriMo, nature, Uncategorized and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Fickle Spring

  1. Cindy says:

    Exactly how it’s been here in Michigan this week!

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