Water drip-drips down ice-free eaves
Telling of melting ice and snow
Seeping slowly through matted leaves
To rouse the garden asleep below.
My garden, frozen, in Winter’s thrall
Waiting for the warmth of Spring.
Waiting, waiting ‘til warm showers fall,
And migrating birds once more sing
Sounds of bicycles in the street,
Children's song of Winter's defeat.
