Spring-dicators

The first dead snake on the dried mud track,
a dried-out glove of a frog on its back,
a bright half-moon in the morning sky,
a crow's cruel croak and a honey-buzzard's cry,
rabbits in the gloaming, ears on the twitch,
mountain boars scratching, feeling nature's itch
single bright poppies in the dew-soaked grass,
winter, like all things, must surely pass.