Change Creeps Cautiously Across the Fenland

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Change creeps cautiously across the fenland,

Fat drops of March rain washing the night

Of February's grey and dismal ruin.

On frost-bruised lawns, where foxes play

Like murderous peasant princes,

Crocuses unfurl their tiny blaze,

Sublime sparks of colourful divinity defying

The morning's lingering looks to winter.

We feel the shift of earth, of air,

Smiling as we dance in daydreams

Through tomorrow's worlds of possibility,

And, somewhere beyond the hills,

The low dawn light on barren fields is

A welcome glance of spring.


4th March, 2017

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