
Hope arrives at January’s
close, whether in presages
of spring or several feet of
snow. Right now with snowdrops
peeping, the increasing length
of day, it’s all palpable
at last. Then you call me your
rock – I’m very far from being that,
a mere
step, a name on some
useless bifurcation. Outside
it is twelve degrees; bring on
the west wind and
hope of spring
© copyright David F. Barker 2013
Nice, man.
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Sweet. 🙂
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Wonderful poem my friend…god bless!
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Oh yes, I look forward to that breath of Spring 🙂
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Bring on the west wing and daffodils. Great poem, and picture.
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What a beautiful poem…and aren’t we all just hoping for spring? The words are celebratory! 🙂
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Just lovely, David – this poem matches the delicacy and fortitude of the snowdrop. Sorry for my absence – I am catching up on your posts, and also apologize for the LIKES without comments. I so enjoy your work and have cheated myself on missing so much of it! Hope you are well.
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