€œcan you smell it? €
€œwhat? € you asked.
€œthe spring, € said i.
the corpse of lifeless leaf crackled,
cracked, &
croaked beneath the grinding heel of
passersby. You scoffed,
and sniffed,
and scoffed again €”a groaning, chill-
wind branch murmured dryly
his assent;
Even the Groundhog fled.
i
sighed: €œperhaps not, € said my heart, and walked on.
Still,
i could have sworn
that–
for a glimpse however brief
–it was sunlight lit your curls.
And weren’t those blossoms at my toes?
or merely(maybe)
snowflakes caked in hope.
______________________________________________________________
In addition to being a published and award-winning poet, Davey Morrison is also a screenwriter, a playwright, a director, an actor, and a visual artist. A Media Arts major at BYU, Davey loves his wife, his dog, his family, the outdoors, the springtime, the autumn, movies, music, board games, Russian literature, Kurt Vonnegut, Fred Astaire, Indian food, Woody Allen, and an assortment of other things, and he can frequently be found devouring information in books or on the internet.
*Contest entry*
Wilderness Interface Zone 
This touches my own experience of a too-long winter’s too-slow almost-could-it-be end, especially this winter, snow-caked as it was. “Is this a thaw? Is the snow going to melt? Aw–not another snowstorm.”
Thanks, Davey, for submitting your poem.
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Hi Davey,
I loved “snowflakes caked in hope” I lived in Alaska for 8 years
and “break up” was something we were anxious to get through–
lots of mud, but giving the promise of longer days.
I enjoyed your poem!
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Great capture in this piece. The moment is a tangible one with these kinds of lines and images. I really enjoyed it.
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I like this one. Once again, “snowflakes caked in hope” is nice. I come alive in springtime.
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