Winter’s Grip is Fading
Ice swizzles
Wrap weed stems
Across frost laden fields
The North wind
Still bites like a dog gone mad
And snow clouds still threaten
Instilling ongoing impatience
But with early migrations
Of the killdeer our pasture shorebird
And the return of the swallow
Will come awareness
That winter’s grip is fading
Roy Bud Bonefish L. Nave



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