snow on the equinox
is silent, still, mulish;
not the last grasp of winter in ditches
and the shaded side of trees–
this is cool rebellion
written in Christmas-card perfect flakes
slow and soft in their spiral,
pale feathers lining robin’s nests
and blunting leaf buds
on the tips of branches
Susan Daniels Poetry 
Very nice. You reading this tonight?>KB
Know what? I should. Certainly apropos, March thumbing her nose at the equinox. Glad you liked.
March is still winter. Not done yet. Very nice.
Alice, so true, and she reminded us today.
Lovely!
Thanks, Jules!
I like this
Celestine, thank you!
As a fellow “lakeside dweller,” I really enjoyed this Susan.
Thanks so much, Jeremy. Had to do it, just had to.
Rebellion, indeed! I’m calling in that big yellow round thing in the sky as backup support.
Please do. She/He is not listening to me.