Hard Winter
By Clark Myers
Spring none too soon —
What passed, a hard winter
Cold as a sharp breath
Ice like a fist to the chest
And a good dog
Buried out by the shed
Where now
The first green tips of tulips
Are just breaking ground.
Clark Myers is a poet who lives in Tisbury with his wife and two children.Poets with a connection to Martha’s Vineyard are encouraged to submit poems to m@mwest.com. Please include a two- to three-sentence bio.