The ghost of winter,

a puff of breath

whisking swirls of snow
off the branches and into the air

suspended

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

threatening
but gone in the blink of an eye

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