It appears that the sweet small finches are turning
And that the crocus are deciding to poke their
Purple heads above the frostline
And that the honeybees are hungering for
Exercise after a long winters nap.
The pussywillows are fat and feel just like bunny fur.
But the signs of winter are still with us. The dessicated crabapples cling to the trees.
The deer tustle with boughs of conifers but are tired of their taste.
Dirty remnants of snow make a patchwork wherever shadows exist.
And dry brown leaves cling to the oaks.
Are appearances deceiving?