It has become a ritual for the past week or so;
brought on I am sure by the latest round of snow.
I walk to the mailbox and on my way back,
I manage to wander a little off track.
Looking for signs that you soon will be here;
I know that the time must surely be near.
This year more than last I wait for your arrival;
I don't want to miss it, this much is vital.
I have cleared you a path hoping to bring you my way;
removed all the obstacles each and every day.
Thoughts of you make me happy inside;
remembering the joy you always provide.
Waiting each day for your appearance to be seen;
and to think it all starts with a little speck of green.
Then in a few days your true beauty my eyes fill;
a perfect and delicate yellow daffodill.