In this cold winter
a flower bloomed.
In that month of nothing but cold,
on that day when not even a breath of warmth could be found,
a nameless, short little thing —
unlike my heart which still can't quite stretch out —
bloomed a flower.
Meeting my eyes for the first time, I crouch down
and shyly take a photo of you.
In case my shadow blocks the sun,
in case my thinking that it's still winter gets shaken,
I press on without looking back.
Did spring wake you?
Did you stir up spring?
Charles, spring of February 2019
Would "Caught Spring!" be a better title? ;D
