Spring lifts her head

Robin’s song is crystal clear
Cold as an icicle,
Sharp as a spear.
I have seen Spring lift her head,
Snowdrops a-shivering,
Winter dead.

(“Robin’s Song,” E.L.M. King)

Maybe I should have some commentary, but really — what more is there to say? The ground offers up crocuses this morning, and the spring birds are returning. Time to stop talking and listen, look, smell, rejoice!

Welcome, spring.

5 thoughts on “Spring lifts her head

  1. Thank you. The crocus had snow on it later in the day, but it still stood tall.

    I like the poem because my daughters memorized it (on their own initiative) in about 5 minutes. It just seemed to be a perfect fit for the season.

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