It is spring
But it feels
As if it is still
The dead of winter.

Lingering snow
Deters the plants to grow
Birds nestled on their nests
And hope their eggs
Will not perish
From the winter freeze.

Yet, I see some
Tulips and daffodils
In their vibrant hues
Bravely poke their way out
In the lingering snow.

Winter's grasp
On spring
Just would not let go.

Copyright 2018, Rose Marie Juan-Austin, All Rights Reserved