We felt a chill
this morning, a reminder
that winter is not sleeping,
those icy fingers are still
reaching from the waking
soil, grasping us in the gray,
holding onto the wait
before May’s stormy arrival
when darkened clouds
bring the necessary rains
and the earth radiates
the heat summer will soon
release. The cruelty of April
is in the limbo of season,
a waking dream we cannot
shake, a pause between
dormancy and new life,
a gray-green in-between
of survival.
—C.L. Fisher, April 2021
Unless otherwise indicated, all content, including writing and images, are the work of C.L. Fisher and may not be copied, used, or distributed without permission.
Poetic Meanderings 