Winter drags cold feet
bound in heavy boots
through deep lessons
I would rather not learn.

Not now. Not again.
This cursed season
of shivers and snow…
And memory.

I run for spring –
imagine warm wind,
shower of hope. Aahh…
sweet forgetfulness.

Gone now, you seem
at home in bleak midwinter,
intent to force remembrance
of love’s coming crucifixion.

And in frigid air swirls
haunting uncertainty:
Is it resurrection
you would deny me?

Spring to life early flowers;
I have done my part
to shed heavy coat
and winter’s empty past.