Crunchy brown leaves
blanket the ground,
blocking the sun’s rays
from a patch of cold earth
until Springtime returns
with her warm winds
to toss away the debris.

Impatient, refusing to wait,
a solitary sprig of creeping phlox
pierces the suffocating weight
of dead foliage and thin twigs,
lifts itself above its solitary prison,
and dares to bloom, its pale
lavender face turned to the sky.

Resolute, the flower will not be
denied its moments in the light
nor save itself for warmer days.

© by Carroll S. Taylor.
Used here with the author’s permission.