Can-it-be winter is leaving;
such loveliness is joyous
their greenery is-beauteous,
with a charm undeceiving.
Snowdrops are pushing up
last year's magnolia leaves
making little-brown tepees
I can almost hear their blood.
I can almost hear a choir
of archangels singing
while briar woods are sleeping
their flowers are an appetiser.
But how their memory lingers,
how them green-and-white
bells so static still excite
icy chilblain, fingers.
Poem by Mark Heathcote
Mark Andrew Heathcote is adult learning difficulties support worker. He has poems published in journals, magazines, and anthologies both online and in print. He resides in the UK and is from Manchester. Mark is the author of “In Perpetuity” and “Back on Earth,” two books of poems published by Creative Talents Unleashed.
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