Blackthorn

 

 

 

 

Spring it is
That brings the snow
White Blackthorn flowers
Upon the bough

Icy fingers
Frost the cars
Feverish commuters
Scraping hard

Blackbirds forage in
Crisper leaves
Seeking to find
What lives beneath

And Robin selects
With care, a bed
To build her nest
Within the shed

So March begins
New life transcends
And Cherry tells
Of Winter’s end

Cherry Blossom

 

 

 

Martin Addison – 04/03/2014