Rise, Spring Sun

Winter slinks into view,

a wily stranger

from the unforgiving east, a weather feast

alighting on the land,

suffering shadows.

Here I ignite my stove,

cedar and fir burn,

as I peer into the night, content to hide,

to shelter in the warmth,

the comfort of home.

On the coming morrow,

snow mantles the earth,

the Beaufort Hills glisten with streaks of brilliance,

the softening of time,

the rising spring sun.


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