The blistering wind whistled ice upon my cheeks

the dreary, newsprint colored mountains of labored snow

tower dominion over belching, exhausted cars and trucks

I trudge in divots of icy footprints, slick with travel

As I step from the shade of the building into the lemon sun

Persephone, Queen of the Underworld, Daughter of Spring

illuminates the air in floral scented bursts of joy

She paused, face down-turned as she adjusted her boots.

Her pink-champagne hair refracting the prismatic light

She lifted her face reverently, flowers flowing from her fingers

falling from her shoulders in graceful cascades as

She stripped off winter to tie it around her waist.

She caught me staring, I hadn’t realized I’d stopped.

She grinned unabashedly as I bowed my head to her.

She strolled past me with the confidence of royalty

i bowed as lilacs trailed behind her.