Spring's Vengeance

A WNW Poem

Spring comes with a vengeance,

wreathed in the gloaming of Time’s breath,

a shadow pressing out against the night,

as light begins to spill across the quiet.

Birds pierce the veil, breaking the silence for Spring,

singing out from the dark,

frogs join in as they fall out of the mud like teeth,

speaking its name;

Spring, Spring, Spring.

Spring pads out onto the frozen earth,

in the form of a black unicorn,

(for it is truly rare to have a true Spring)

and it scratches at the ground with its hooves.

Damned damp earth

offends its senses,

it snorts,

digging deeper,

scrapping out the infestation of frost,

watching as weeds unravel like tongues,

parched and perforated, asking the specter for water.

Spring will lead the charge now that it is March,

with each step, more will join its campaign.

The flowers will bare, protected by the bumblebees,

the rivers will babble, the bears will feast,

slowly,

Winter will fall away

and the world will live again.

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Artwork: “March” by Laura Benson.

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The Word Not World Series (WNW) is an interactive anthology where, once a week, I share a photo and peers give me words that inspired them.

“Gloaming,” was requested by @angela_psalm (on IG) and “vengeance,” was requested by @catscratch345 (on IG).

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