Soft, light leaves of spring
exchange their feathery green
for waxy darkness.

The sun has broken
through the oppressive halo
of gray clouds and rain.

The thick, warm fog has
settled over the new green
breathing hushed secrets.

In the soft half light
alone in morning rain I
listen to my breath.

A rainy cold has
crept back in; seeping through trees
and chilling my bones.

The gray skies brighten
green so deep it hurts your eyes
and keeps you earthbound.

There have come soft rains
with a gentle pattering
of light, soft fingers.