It was a white morning,
a wintery morning.
Trees held their breath
and birds cawed,”survival, survival.”
I went out wrapped in layers of soft
against the brittle air throwing
stinging kisses against my face.
The sky was white and grey
like angry pearls.
And then – daffodil leaves,
green buds, strong,
pushing out through
the white layer of snow.
The daffodil bloomed in my mind,
the yellow opening, the promise of sun …
in that moment,
the brittle morning broke.