Once I thought to escape winter by moving northwest.
The mildness was then a relief to my worn frame.
Not anymore. The winter followed me afoot.
Is it attached without a chance for coincidence?
Why would the seasons be aware of a single soul?
Tis´ my yearning for spring animating winter´s cloak.
Did I not see the first lambs springing hither and fro?
2nd February 2015
©By Andrea Connolly