the thing about spring is
new beginnings.

the frost falls from the bare
limbs of trees and
the cloak of cold
chill in the air is
slowly removed.

green is painted in the
canopies and
the birds sing and
dart into the undergrowth.

the gray skies, once laden
heavy with clouds
full of snow
clear to reveal
blue skies and
a glowing sun.

new beginnings.

unfamiliarity.

I don’t want to let go
of what used to be.

change is coming and
I’m not willing
to accept it.

things will never
be the same as they
used to, and I’m
cast out into
some strange land,
hardly knowing what to do or
how to react.

I don’t want the frost to go,
the freshly lit fireplaces,
crackling of pine wood
and the smell of sweet
smoke as
we sit in the glow
of orange flame.

the long sleeves and
the fur hoods and
tall boots;
fingerless gloves and
scarves that protect
my vulnerable flesh.

now I feel stripped bare,
poked and prodded and
under a microscope.

in the end, it may be for the best
but even so,
my doubt hangs
like a cold winter’s wind.