Yearning for Spring

As the vernal moon approaches

I can hear the birds,

Feel the breeze on my skin.

The sun shines a comforting

Golden glow.

The crocus stretching their

deep colored petals

Towards the sun

yearning for the ides of March

People break free of the confines

of the constricting coats

begging the dirty,

ash colored snow to melt.

The grass slogging to be free

of the cold white blanket

to play patty cake

with the sunlight again.

I can hear the birds,

Feel the breeze.

Yes, I can feel spring is on the way.