"the roots of love come tumbling down" when the winter exits and spring takes over, melting the snow and whispering to the sproutlings
transforming the ice into a river, the cold into warmth, the deadness into newness

no intelligence decides the weather- if clouds thicken, rain abounds, if impressions ****** the soil to the worms
a single thorn mutilates our trust, staining any emblems worn that winter day, but
the crumbling love outside rests tonight

-c.j.