Winter’s End

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.