April 


Green buds of hope unfurled from seasoned branches in the radiant glare.

Their tender fingers opening with naive certainty,

Oblivious the clear, cloudless sky would bring a view of sparkling infinity in hours.

The insulating security blanket had rolled back to reveal

The infant leaves’ first glimpse of the starry night sky.

A marvel of hypnotic celestial clarity

And the gnawing bite of bitter frost.

Sophie Harrington 2018

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