Ice Blink

Green fades to brown as frost nips at life’s fingers.
Leaves dance through the air as they sway down to freedom.

Out come the hats, the jackets and gloves.
On turns the stove, eager for tea pot and mugs.

I am unnoticed, unseen,
drifting through the halls like a pebble caught up in a stream.
See, I'm not truly invisible.
In fact, sometimes I wish I weren't so typical. 

I am a worker bee,
in my own little world called me.

Sometimes people seem born to run, born to GO BIG.
But that doesn't mean the rest of us can't.

Sometimes, we have to walk before we can run.

Bare apple branches give way to buds as they cast brilliant white blossoms, 
replacing the starch iciness of winter,
Begining the rebirth of spring, and spreading 
the unfailing joy of new life over the land.