Early Spring

The melting snow

Has uncovered

Fallen twigs

And branches

Still clawing the air

In what must have been

A last

Desperate attempt to

Hold on

A faded paper flier

That had escaped the clutches of

The screen door

Has been captured by the bush

Standing sentry

At the edge of the walkway

Bits of Styrofoam appear

Bright against the tufts of

Brown grass

And I am reminded

In my own winter

That certain things will never

Be revealed

Until there is

A thaw