Into Spring

This poem is actually several years old, but it’s a good spring thought. “My friend” in line 5 is Wendell Ganstrom. This sonnet is dedicated to him and what he’s taught me. —gb

We were on snowshoes, trudging on the crust
of March in Colorado. All around
in filtered sunlight, unbeknownst to us,
snow melted where it touched the warming ground.
Don’t rush it, said my friend. Enjoy the day.
Relax. So I slowed up a little bit.
And that was when the weakened snow gave way.
I dropped three feet, and when my snowshoes hit

I rolled back on thick moss and amber sand
and little yellow buttercups. Nearby,
clear water gurgled through this elfin land
hidden beneath its gleaming crystal sky.
It charms me even now remembering
the time I fell through winter into spring.

     —August 8, 2003

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About Greg Bryant

I teach writing and literature at Highland Community College in northeast Kansas.
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2 Responses to Into Spring

  1. Nancy says:

    I like the whimsical aspect of this. I imagined a secret place to unfold. Which is really what happens when seasons change. Don’t think I would like to live where seasons don’t change.

  2. bryon says:

    “Trudging on the crust of March.” That’s really nice. This is a great winter daydream of warmth and renewal even as it reminds us that spring is waiting under the snows.

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