The trees bewildered
stark, bare silhouettes against grey sky
waiting for a signal to explode in green
prolonged winter cold becomes summer
in one day.
Tiny white snowdrops
spring’s sentinels bloom under April snows
buried spring bulbs hesitate to push upward
Arctic ice-melt carries seals on floes blown
far southward.
Fearful people
each out for some stability in this absence of
seasonal cycles buried deep with their bones
a stability that no longer exists, afraid to trust
the sudden warmth will stay.
Inept brothers bomb
an iconic event and shatter illusions of safety
as a thirsty nation devours each minute detail
this media feeding frenzy eluding the answers
to what creates violence.
Winter-weary people
on an collective search for illusive assurance
cry out for the past that provided an anchor
while the air saturated with chaos and change
hangs over all.
Bewildered trees a symbol
all of us frozen together in time and space
so uncertain of what might lie ahead of us
waiting, we wait for something not named
beyond imagination.
And yet we hope.
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