Midwinter Dreams

At last, the snow clouds clear.
The trees stand at attention to salute
the high blue sky. Deep within their thickets,
deer stir and small animals poke their noses
up from their furry, circled bodies to sniff the air.
It smells of rain. But not yet. They go back
to their dreams, with molecules of hope running
through them. It won’t be long now, their senses
say. It won’t be long.

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