Springtime in Russia
The six-month winter miraculously
segues into a psychedelic fever
of blossoming apple trees
and awakening white birches
as white-fronted geese
flock along an endless sky
painted robin’s-egg blue.
Outside the city garden plots
become reacquainted
with agrarian hands skilled
from generation’s past
furiously planting and artfully
nurturing all that is necessary
to survive the next winter.
january two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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