spring does not lightly wander out
from under winter’s canopy.
daffodils have no pity,
for dawn’s frost will soon change.
into dark despair i entered willingly
this cage of blood and guts.
bracketing the edge of winter is
crocus’s wistful omen,
out of winter’s blue mouth, spring
shows warm, sensual features.
20180419 A response to word lists at The Imaginary Garden