Written by Sharon Scholl
Waking in the light, no longer
stumbling to consciousness,
feeling my way to the lamp switch.
Like turning some vast corner
in a climate zone and seeing scattered
bits of spring, or its green resemblance.
Almost, almost, the tantalizing sense
of something in the air less crisp,
less insistent than a winter wind.
Closer to leaf buds on the oak trees,
puddles yellow with a coat of pollen,
gray owls hooting in the woods.
Not yet the saw-song of cicadas.
Not yet the first robins on the fence,
but almost.
.
Sharon Scholl is a retired college teacher who convenes a poetry critique group and maintains a website (freeprintmusic.com) of original compositions donated to small, liberal churches. Her poetry books, Seasons, Remains, Evensong, Classifieds, are available via Amazon Books. Her poems are current in The Taborian and The Raven’s Press.