Winter's Farewell - A Poem (From "Four Folded Corners")

Snow lines the sill.

I wait
for the bees
to greet
the petite, purple asters
aside my worn, white fence.

I sense the
aching of the dormant trees.

Once sticky pinecones
lay crushed
beneath the evergreens'
brittle, burdened limbs.

By Mary E. Lohan