Happens this way
Every year
A fearless front wave
Rearing green heads
On spindly necks
From trodden beds
And wine barrels
During a freakish
Warm stretch of late winter
The lying sun of today
Cannot be trusted
Stay buried
Warm and wait
For your moment
But there is always
A batch
Throwing caution
Against the wind
Daring night
To freeze once again
And like clockwork
They are slaughtered
In one quick
Brutal frost
Moments before their
Singular mission
Of glorious unfolding
And left standing
As withered corpses
For the cautious ones
To outgrow
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