Ode to Winter's Passing

This isn't entirely finished, but I wanted to get this out while it still has some seasonal relevance.


Ode to Winter's Passing

Winter's lean calligraphy
Of leafless limbs
Is slowly blurred
In pale blushes
Of pink and gold,
Rust and red.

Lost are the spare black veins
Etched high against the steely skies,
Their eloquent soliloquy
Increasingly obscured
By diffuse profusions
Of their own concealed
Fecundity.

Tints, at first tentative
And faint
On winter's chilly cusp
Deepen into bolder hues.
I feel giddy and unsteady
To be so newly
Unconstrained from
Winter's quiet dialog.

Slowly I gladden
And let loose a
Drunken joy
That life indeed
Has triumphed
Once again.