OK, friend winter. I’ve appreciated your quietude, your snowy beauty, but it’s time for you to go. Will you depart willingly? I need at least a minor hint of spring. I have valued your calming influence but … it’s time …

So Long, Winterpal

You’ve hung around too long, brother

my skin is weary of your dry appraisal

you cloud the light, you stunt the trees

no relief from your raw breath.

Don’t tell me you have tasks to be accomplished

you’ve cracked the streets, you’ve blistered walks

no reason to remain but your perverseness.

if I knew a winter-begone spell, I’d use it.

Can I remind you there are four seasons

each allotted a quarter of the year?

But you’ve been with us full five months

I could characterize this as loitering.

If I could arrest you, I’d turn out the cops

if I could boot you away, I would

you tell me you assist my introspection

but I’ve parsed spirit sufficient for the year.

I want to frolic in something called sun

I’m sure you remember that distant star

it’s a power you block so easily

I can feel you smirking around me.

I could flatter you, you’ve been of service

I loved your lazy white flakes falling

your crisp chill awakening me from torpor,

dark night comfort by the scented fire.

But now I need a season’s greening welcome

my body craves a boulevard of budding oaks

blackbirds calling in the marsh again

light that leads me through the spread-wide-open evening.

You know that spring will overcome you

(though unlike Californians I support your presence)

so now I’ll help you pack and hit the road.

Ready? Anything you’ve forgotten?