A Poem By
Marian Buck-Murray
This is the winter I melt into spring.
The small green sprout of a girl lingers
still,
inside my frozen expanse.
She’s wrapped tightly,
hardly breathing,
and somewhere,
in the quiet of her silent watch,
she hears the sound,
and sees the signs.
Her skin awakens to the soft sure breath
of something that reminds her
of Love.
And she knows.
It’s time to breathe again.
Her break has come,
and the hardened shards
of blackened snow and ice
begin to fall around her.
Soon she will be here,
alive and green
and as brave as the violet crocus
emerging to play in the warming light of day.
