Day Three NaPoWriMo

(See below for the photographic evidence)

Yesterday, I wrote of bright daffodils,
shining and bobbing in the April breeze.
This morning’s window held a waking view of
fog I thought, until I donned my glasses.
The whiteness outside the glass, it was snow
not a dusting to remember winter
in early April but inches covered
the garden, marble walk, and two lane road.
How trusting we are, thinking spring has come
to sit by us til summer visits late
but she’s a fickle one, both hot and cold
we’re melted and frozen in her dancing.
We laugh as she laughs, we the shivering,
clinging to the warmth of our yesterdays.

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