Spring wanted to escape the clutches of winter,
it was waiting for its turn.
Through the clouds, touching the trees,
the sun had started to burn.
The opaque blue of the February sky
embraced the ball of heat.
Branches stretched to feel its warmth,
longing for a chance to meet.
Buried under mountains of snow,
blades of grass strained under its weight.
Buds of lilacs hidden in their shrouds
longed to achieve their beautiful fate.
But winter in its fit of rage
took hold of the sky again.
Suicidal snowflakes fell
and cloaked where spring had been.
Mercury fell and icicles formed,
the promise of warmth was gone.
Spring would have to lay in wait
to sing its beautiful song.