No earthworm yet
can break
this frozen soil — yet
this solstice talks
in tongues of thaw
and blue of anemones.
March is war,
it’s cloak and dagger
waiting, waiting
for another daybreak.
No earthworm yet
can penetrate
this solstice soil
but soon
so very soon
we’ll welcome thaw
and blue of anemones.
March by Isaac Levitan
Less that 60 words for Mama Zan on what’s weird in this solstice week at toads.
March 24, 2017
Björn Rudbergs writings 
The earthworm must wait its turn with Mother Nature. Rules.
I bought a bag of potting soil recently, some of the brands had earthworm castings. They are used as a natural soil fertilizer additive.
Not really pertinent information for your nice poem though.
..
I like this Bjorn. Is it a particular form with the repetition of stanza 1 and 3 ( almost)?
I imagine the pregnant wait for the thaw in northern climes. (Are the earthworms frozen until then?)
A beautiful lyrical quality to these lines, Bjorn. Everything you touch is golden.
I like the innocence and perseverance of earthworms – and they do so much good to the soil! The librarians of the earth.
This is really lovely, Bjorn.
you capture our eagerness for Spring and blue anemones – love this poem – March is war -hope April is thaw
Loved the picture painted by the earthworm!
Love this poem. March is the worm moon in Native AMerican mythology. But…this is not time for solstice but instead is the vernal equinox, which was March 20.
I didn’t know that the worm moon was for March… The prompt referred back to the week… so I think it works for equinox anyway….
March is indeed war! I hope the thaw comes soon for you~
My mind’s eye visualizes those blue anemones, and sees them as a symbol of peace after the cloak and daggers of March war. A stunning image that plants into.