I noticed just this morning
There’s a difference in the air.
Can’t quite put my finger on it
But I know that it is there.
Wind is blowing, brisk, as usual,
Weatherman’s predicting snow,
Yet I sense a subtle changing,
Soft, unspoken, and I know
Snowbanks soon will be retreating
Bare spots spreading in between,
And the southern slopes will shimmer
With that first faint hint of green.
The fuzzy little crocus buds
Will then come bursting forth,
And the wind will cease its bluster,
Cold and constant, from the north.
The creeks will start their singing,
Making music through the night,
And the clear blue sky will echo
With the honk of geese in flight.
The cows are growing heavy,
Calving soon will be begun,
But today they’re standing lazy
Soaking up the noonday sun.
Tomorrow it may snow again
And the sun may disappear
But I feel a thawing deep within
And I know that spring is near.
Spring Thaw excerpted from Crazy Quilt. From Thunder Hawk, SD, Elizabeth is perhaps the most esteemed poet to ever grace the stage. Among her current publications and recording are two books, Prairie Wife and Crazy Quilt; and a CD, Live from Thunder Hawk.