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            Michael H. Levin: Poems and Prose  

SNOWDROPS

(February)


Who’d think

these slender stems

could pierce gunmetal snow

presenting arms through gusts

that polarize the hollows of my bones


yet here

they rise -- demure

white caps, pure offerings

of spring: extended by

a netherworld whose darker invites


bide their time below.



The Raven's Perch (April 12, 2021); reprinted in But Does It Rhyme (Aug. 2021)