Balmy afternoon spawns thoughts of Spring,
(though groundhog claims a few more wintry weeks)
But during full-moon sleep, the world turned white,
Erasing leaves of grass and leafy trees.
My puppy licked his sno-cone from the sill,
Carved prints betrayed my deer-hooved migrant guests,
The feeders hung near top the blanket ground,
And rocker sits snow-stranded ‘cross the deck.
I turn to seek the sheltered warmth inside,
delaying only briefly for my pup,
who’s found a way to high-jump through the banks
of newly-fallen, freshly sprinkled snow.
As if in afterthought I spin around,
And glimpse white, frozen pot with glorious crown.
Photo Friday: #red