This is another free verse poem about spring, very reliant on the images of snow and crocus and legend and the magic of nature to tell the story of winter gradually turning the page and calling us along for the ride out of our place inside at the frost covered window pane. There's a definite movement here from stillness to dance, from contemplation to action. Musically and rhythmically I think it owes a lot to the poetry of Denise Levertov; maybe also in the unveiled persona of the narrator. Hope you all enjoy; it was fun to write. estory

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