The Astringent Winds of Aggression

A kiss of sun is all I need,
To rise above your bare blanket,
That suffocates me for months on end.
As my kin and I are exhumed,
The world is drenched in radiance once more.

Your gray barren landscape,
Is now brilliantly replete with life and color,
As a result of my development.
My soft pink pigments give off a stifling luminosity,
That recently penetrated your desolate mantle of vacancy.

I take pride in my lustrous yellows,
As they quickly pierce your dismal landscape.
I pursue you, to the top of the garden wall,
Where my colors slither across the railing,
Entwined around your frozen icicles.
As a snake across a sunny rock,
I soak in the warmth of the sun,
Spreading a sensation of hope,
With my uplifting assortment of purples.

I shiver as you greedily whip away my pollen,
Into your twirling winds of aggression.
You barge in suddenly,
An unsought visitor.
Your bleak landscape incarcerates my radiance,
As I am, against my will,
Buried in a layer of your dreariness, yet again.

I fear not for myself,
But for the others,
As they sleep in reminiscence of my color.
My heartwarming soft colors always prevail,
Each year, my pigments grow brighter and my petals bigger.
But until a kiss of sun disinters my soul,
My true beauty remains concealed,
Under your truly nefarious spirit,
Winter.