Waiting For Spring#1 1997

             Waiting For Spring #1

Will spring never come?

It’s April and it’s snowing.

Extraordinary that!

The snow is thick and growing,

And my husband says, “It’s only rain.

A little white – but going.

He’s just changed to summer tires.

Wind is blowing.

Shame, if on his way to work

His auto needed towing.

These are funny times, I think,

With nothing to rely on.

Weather-wise, they really stink.

The planet’s gone awry, on

Top of which the baddies

Are increasing all the time,

Diverting scientific steam

To search for groups to spy on.

Dear, oh dear, while lying here

The snow continues piling:

Up and up and up and up

While I continue smiling.

Snow has charm. One could

Describe it as beguiling,

That despite the forecast.

It’s an occupation in itself,

This waiting for the buds.

Proof will be a game of golf

And features about floods;

Flowers on the forest floor,

Fledglings for the cat;

Preferences for milky fare

And victual without fat,

And everything

That comes with spring –

I’m waiting for all that.

Still, it’s April twenty-third.

Rising snow is right outside.

The wood stove is prop-full of birch,

The golf clubs stand untried.

I had hot porridge as a snack.

I needed something warm.

Spring, why are you holding back

Your green and floral charm?

©

 

Waiting For Spring #1 97.4.23Circling Round Nature; Our Times, Our Culture; Small Stories Book; Swedish Book;

Arlene Corwin

 

 

 

 

 

 

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