Petrified

The sun rides low
in April's sky
while winter's wind
continues to terrorize,
daring petrified leaves
to burst forth
from their buds.

Squirrels scurry tree's
limbs anxious to return
to the warmth of their
Dreys and the few nuts
they have left.

Overhead birds chirp
of the newly hatched
before loudly complaining of
their exposed nests
watching intently wondering
when and where nature's greenery
will first be gleaned.

As sky darkens
sun sets taking
its empty promises
of warmth while silencing
their chatter with an answer
of not today.

I slide between my
cold sheets
shiver off the chill
while taking comfort
from the knowledge
that tomorrow the answer
or the question may
change.

- Vera