My Blackberry Winter

There was still a month of Winter,

Weeks before the Spring.

Outside the crows were cawing,

And the air still had its sting.

 

Easter lilies broke the crust.

The Dogwoods soon would bloom.

Ice was thin upon the ponds,

And I was snug inside my room.

 

But, the outlook spoke of snow,

And I could hear the mournful wind,

Playing upon my shutters,

Across screens I’ve yet to mend.

 

By morning there was snow,

And the Spring time it did hinder.

And, in my stove the fire waned,

Leaving but a single glowing ember.

 

I stoked the coal in cold

That burned my Red Oak splinter,

Then settled in to wait out

Another Blackberry Winter.