Spring

When winter slumps

                               away

and spring seeks the edges of its death for something new;

through it all,

surfing the veins of naked trees yet to green

is one constant ally,

the chaffinch singing his heart-song

          loudest

                                                             at the end of the day.

I come from the North of England and I live on Hadrian's Wall. I've had poems published in WrittenOffPublishing and LateBritainPress anthologies amongst others.