Poems by Loretta Strharsky
SPRING
In still ways spring slips
Into the very fingers of the trees
In still ways spring eases
Into and through the winter earth
In still ways
With the simple sound of rain
Spring comes home.
WONDERING
A fawn peaks out from behind a stable old tree. Having seen shadows or hearing the twig snap under the snow she pauses. Is she unsure of where she should be or where she should go. Is this trained hesitance of danger Or is she looking at me for directions