It Will Come

The wind bites my face.  I shuffle on, glancing up when the weather allows.  A blanket of white is drowning the land.  The calendar is playing tricks, mocking us with one blizzard after another while my Facebook shows me reminders of the flowers I saw on this day in the past.  I know, I need a little self-control and wait it out.  The lush plant life will return, recreating the landscape around me.  A strong gust makes me duck my head again.  I am not sure if I will preserver.

The world born again
Endurance over winter
Bloom to emerald

— —

This was written for Colleen’s Weekly Poetry Challenge.  The key words today were “Patience” and “Green”.  Following her suggestion, I didn’t use the words, I used only synonyms.

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