So Winter and Spring
they danced up a storm,
Paso Doble that filled up the skies.
With whiteness and rain
and spring-summer tease,
swirls and flourishes to the wind cries.
They couldn’t agree
who should take the lead,
so in waves snow and rain left traces.
First the cold, then warmth
(as they flirted and flounced) –
both thinking to fill up the spaces.
Feather Strokes 