Virginia Late February

From deep roots the waning winter world thrusts bare gray trees high into the sky.
Small upstarts of tufted green dare to challenge the browned ground.
Rich brown mulch, with easily imagined deep musk smells, shroud dead gardens.
Dark dense evergreens ever stalwart begin to laugh out lighter edges.
Beneath them, bold green spikes cluster close seeking reassurance that flowers will soon bloom.
Wooden fences sport new boards, proud repairs mending old injuries.
A quiet sky lingers between bright and dull, awaiting fresh energy.
The country road curves and curves again uneager to arrive anywhere.
An orange clad runner appears, strange hurrying through a waiting world.
Not Quite Spring

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