underfoot, under the metal spikes
clamped to my boots, the many-times-
trod-on icy trails of late winter
lead me once again to the woods
earth’s snow cover softens with melt
the sun’s bright, the temp nears forty
buds grip red-tinged branches
willows gleam golden, in bare swaths
flattened grasses twitch skyward
the giant fallen trunks showcase
yellow lichen, orange polypores
knobby clumps of evergreen moss
what seems black & white the winter
long shimmers in spring’s prism
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