The March of Spring

Spring descends, a billowing sheet 
touching one spot and then another 
in an uneven benediction.

A blaze of white under weak blue skies 
soon set to bay by stronger grey. 
But hope at least among the debris.

The dull of death gives way to bright  turquoise and yellow standards 
fight for space among the blackened leave

The chill white filigree of dawn recedes to sun 
and slowly the year emerges young and green. 
February gone, the march of Spring goes on.

© Dave Kavanagh 

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