The fields are snowbound no longer; <br />There are little blue lakes and flags of tenderest green. <br />The snow has been caught up into the sky-- <br />So many white clouds--and the blue of the sky is cold. <br />Now the sun walks in the forest, <br />He touches the bows and stems with his golden fingers; <br />They shiver, and wake from slumber. <br />Over the barren branches he shakes his yellow curls. <br />Yet is the forest full of the sound of tears.... <br />A wind dances over the fields. <br />Shrill and clear the sound of her waking laughter, <br />Yet the little blue lakes tremble <br />And the flags of tenderest green bend and quiver.<br /><br />Katherine Mansfield<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/very-early-spring/
