This is the winter,
the cold freeze
the dark cave
the branches bare
and aching.
This is the waiting,
the longing for
the seeking after
the drawn out pause
after the door bell.
This is the winter--
blizzard shivers
empty gardens
frosted nerves.
This is the waiting
room of the world,
hoping against bitter
winds dragging in despair.
This is the winter,
This is the waiting:
Spring is coming soon.
