Spring is less tentative now,
stretching degrees upwards
to short-sleeve weather
though snow still hides in ditches
and the shaded side of trees,
there is softening, opening of the air
to blooming,
untasted since tannins
painted days sepia,
yellowing the hours
to the tint of old photo albums
full of faces, familiar
but whose names have faded.
After erasure of snow,
I hunger for new color,
already unfurling in fiddleheads
and spruce tips, tender
and just fingering the air
my kin would have gathered
into a first taste of green.
Susan Daniels Poetry 
Very vivid, clean.>KB
Thanks, KB!
oh you paint the anticipation and yearning so well Susan. I can smell it in the air.. it is coming :0)
Yes, and I can’t wait. Went outside without a jacket yesterday! Yeehah!
🙂
You capture well the longing.
Thanks, Alice.
Tannins and sepia…two of my favorite things and now intertwined with Spring
I love those words, too, JH. I usually don’t use them in Spring 😉
Had to.