I SPIED a drift of snowdrops through the trees
light reflecting, purest white
amongst the frost-damp sparkling grass
as if sun-shy their heads faced down
beneath the coppiced hazel wands
about to burst their dormant buds
and lamb’s-tail catkins twirl within the breeze
hinting early springtime growth
within the sheltered woodland glade.
before the equinox announces spring
brave-heart winter snowdrops know
their spirit-lifting days will shortly go
and dwindling down their flowers gently fade.