It’s still National Poetry Month, which means it’s still April. Yet, it snowed last night.

I awoke to a world of lightness and heaviness. As I walked our dog, a poem tugged at my brain.

Spring, Interrupted (April 21, 2021)

by Amanda Cook

The morning after

The still air stings with no

Sense of direction

The dogwood blossoms,

Blood spots tipping their cream petals,

Shimmer like ripe, plump pearls

The redbuds’ tourmalines pink out

From clumps of white crystal

Leafing shrubs

Their diminutive weeping

Willow branches revering

The earth

The tiny butterweed flowers

With yellow eyes downcast

Discovering their roots

And our dear silver beech

Her imperious expression shawled by

Curls dusted in white

They hold their breath,

Caught warm in yesterday’s sunlight.

Mourning birds gossip

Among burdened branches

In the distance, commuters barrel

Through their lives

Obscured by masks as thin as

Late April snow

Shoulders bowed

Holding their breath

Waiting

By noon,

Hope emerges

Green.

copyright (c) Amanda Cook, 2021

By noon, most of the snow had fallen away, and the plants were mostly upright again.

It’s supposed to freeze overnight again, and then warmer weather is on its way. Again.

Thanks for reading.

A. Cook

Amanda Cook is a writer and stay at home mom who lives in Indiana hill country with her spouse, kids, and clingy dog. In the Before Times (and sometimes even now), she could/can be found helping out with her kids' school, catching up on her toppling TBR pile, playing games with her friends, hanging out at virtual conventions, crying over period dramas, or sewing yet another cosplay. Her second novel, "When We Were Forgotten," is the winner of the 2018 Bronze Medal for Best Sci-fi/Fantasy/Horror E-Book from the Independent Publisher Book (IPPY) Awards. She writes short speculative fiction and poetry that she also occasionally posts to her blog.

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