Who can believe it? The third day in February, and I wear a spring jacket to work over a hoodie. And on the way home, I leave the jacket in the trunk .
A dusting of snow fell yesterday morning. It was gone before noon. I heard a bird sing for the first time since summer–or at least the last thaw!
But the Maple trees won’t be so easily fooled. Buds remain sealed. No sign of growth emerges from the ground, either.
How long this interlude lasts is any meteorologist’s guess. But if this is the foretaste of spring, I’ll take it–mild winter or no.
setting sun …
how quickly night still comes
after twilight
Today, I host dVerse Poets’ Haibun Monday. Our prompt is Spring. The Pub is open! Come join us!
Frank J. Tassone 
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