Old Wounds

Winter makes us all forget
how we love the color green,
appetites for Spring to whet
once her first buds are seen.

As the plants dry up and wilt,
frigid Winter keeps us numb
till the world can be rebuilt.
To the thaw we all succumb.

Spring reminds us what we lost,
buried losses seed each flower.
Emerging groggy from the frost,
Find the ground barren and scoured.

Quickly, cut away the stitches
leaving no time for regret.
Rid yourself at last of wounds which
Winter made us all forget.