The Ghost of Winter

The ghost of winter,

a puff of breath

whisking swirls of snow
off the branches and into the air


a last gasp of cold crystals

the pine boughs flash frozen for a moment
and then it’s gone,

green grass poking through the raised mounds of snow
pushed upwards
by the fledgling growth of spring

a delicate dance

but gone in the blink of an eye


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  1. Little Mighty

     /  April 5, 2016

    A very nice piece of prose; you have given it poetic justice.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Pretty. . . at least this dreadful weather brought something nice to life, even as it has killed all my springy plants. xoxo! Hope you are doing well!


    • Jennifer Butler Basile

       /  April 6, 2016

      I know! I felt so badly for all those nascent blooms encased in ice!

      I’m well. Hope you are as well ❤



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