He listens intently
For the burble of trickling water
Beneath the ice pack
But hears only silence
The wind whirls snow flakes
Before his eyes
There is no warmth
To the sunlight
He will wait for those signs
Impatience simmering
Longing for the season change
Ah yes to the mercy of the season, it is wise to wait. Hope your Spring arrives soon, Robert
ReplyDeletemuch love...
We are both longing for that seasonal change....love the images you evoked for me...right on the money as they say!
ReplyDeleteThe yearning for seasonal change is so palpable here... beautiful!💖
ReplyDeleteI see the change... maybe not in temperature but in light... I so crave the light.
ReplyDeleteSome areas have had a very long winter. I can imagine the impatience waiting for the seasonal change. Robert, would you please email me at wildwomantwo@gmail.com ? I have a question.......thanks, kiddo.
ReplyDeleteOh yes, awaiting some sun !
ReplyDeleteSuccinctly encapsulated - this waiting on the season. The snappy brevity underscores the feeling of your poem so well
ReplyDeleteI am so longing for the season to change. I can feel the anticipation in this poem. Hard to be patient, but we must. We must.
ReplyDeleteIt seems, this week, a lot of poets are longing for that season change. It appears: we are done. You have caught that 'wait' wonderfully here.
ReplyDeleteWell yearned : )
ReplyDeleteZQ
Yup! On the money! I think the first sense to perk up with spring is my sense of smell.
ReplyDeleteWell penned.
ReplyDeleteI await the season change eagerly. Warmth and regrowth will come...
Anna :o]