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?