…was it, maybe,
a frost that had turned its sap to ice,
and so it stood,
bitter-sweet,
still fair to see,
but stricken,
soon to fall and die?
~J.R.R Tolkien from Return of the King

Any hint of spring
is frozen in place,
buds encased,
unable to swell,
their future
suspendedand stricken,
bitter in
their beauty.