Spring kludge

Snow peels off winter’s wounds like
skin off a blister on a dancer’s heel:
there is a beauty cloaked in ugliness
as the old hide releases, baring the
fresh inert wounded flesh beneath.

Old grass from last fall oozes like
a new lymph-sodden scab, clotting.

I look at the dirty detritus of winter:
old dog turds, greyed dabs of paper
collected layers of wet dust staying
as the old rotting snow thaws and leaves
the stinking readyness. Spring is coming.

[I have posted two supporting photos in Platinum River.] 

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About riverwriter

Poet, playwright, duplicate bridge player, website designer, cottager, husband, father, grandfather, former athlete, carpenter, computer helper for my friends, theatre designer, backstage polymath, retired teacher of highschool English, drama, art, a baritone singer in a barbershop quartet, who knows what else? wordcurrents is on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/wordcurrents/ Doug also has a Facebook page, "Incognitio", related to his novels.
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