The Touch

It was lightly snowing large, irregular flakes,

but between the drifting flakes a cold rain

pattered on the almost-green grass

as sunshine glanced to the side

of a dark, blue, passing cloud.

Wind huffed mightily

as I wanted to say something

startling or exciting, yet the wind

held the stage as I offered outstretched

my empty palms

to pay homage to the seasonal mix.

Anticipation of spring

can be marvelously maddening,

and a quick glance about the disordered garden

conjures up images of hard work,

.

Digging remains more satisfying

than the idle frustrations of winter.

Even a four-year-old yearns to build,

with fertile imagination,

with hands on wood or stone.