I believe in you spring even though it appears you are hidden under layers of white.
Each layer a Sunday past when the snow fell thick and heavy and I was held up inside with my hook and frame.
I know that the little bit of sun today that warmed me on my walk will charm you out of hibernation.
You’ll arrive one morning and I’ll meet you in a skirt and sweater, dressed up to celebrate your coming.
I’ll cherish you while you are here because my fondness has grown in your absence and I now know how much I love you.
I know you are coming.
That thin blue line in the distance is the open water. Another sign.