OK, I think I’m now a total of three poems in the hole. It’s been a crazy week! Maybe I can write an extra poem this weekend, though it’s turning out kind of busy, too. This morning’s poem is tiny…but I’m pleased with it. I actually worked it over in a few different versions (in my head) before arriving at this last one.
A whisper of snow muffles the forsythia– extinguishing spring.