Here.  Wrapped in a red shawl
looking out the window signs 
of Spring's steady return speaks 
to my heart

But the trees tell a different 
story.  Even as the sun shines 
warm through their branches, 
the wind still blows its cold song

"Not yet" the wind whispers to
the leaves that remain waiting.
"No, not yet" my voice answers
And my heart continues longing
for spring.