#poem #poetry #amwriting #sketchbook spring

Today we were tricked into believing it was spring
blueskies and sunshine, the vapoured air
of flood hills warmed. And tonight
in perfect constellation cloudless pointed
a frost on every window spreads.
But no trees were fooled.
They do not rush to blossom or leaf.
A surer sign is needed
to touch the heartwood and the root
than mere air: and bouncing step.

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