First Green

They look like hope-

those first buds swelling,

with all the possibilities

of a life happily started

under a warming April sky

fed by vanishing March snow.

And I still hoped,

even as my roots told me

the earth is still cold.

The sun is lying.

I cannot lie.

I felt the buds

push towards the sunlight,

and dreamed

of the first green uncurling,

only to have

the March wind screech,

pulling me from dreams

to see stillborn green

devoured by a shroud of ice.

Song Choice: I See A Darkness by Johnny Cash 

This poem was inspired by the prompt given over at Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads, Speaking For Spring's Stillborn Sprouts.