Wednesday

Forgiven


The largest, strongest of the evergreen,
weighted by white, pushed to the ground,
bends a sweeping bow, but does not break.

All is forgiven, February.  I am in love, again.
The great heart slips its chain of cardboard, of tinfoil
returning again and again to the now white covering
of even the smallest branch.

The Queen has come, and crowned her many brides.