Continuity

By Florence Boutwell

Although the mountain peaks are blotched with snow,

The air is bubbly warm and cocky bright,

And new excitement swells on farms below

With maple blossoms red and kites in flight.

Wild purple Iris flock along the creek

And buttercups spot all the woodland trails;

Town children, coatless, play at hide ’n seek

And gather butterflies and toads and snails.

As temperatures grow warmer, challenging

The threatening cold, snow grumbling yields heights,

And animation floods another Spring

Expanding through the land, erasing blights

And scars. Thus I learn that death and strife

Are but the briefest incidents in life.