Two days ago it was
Enjoyable enough to sit outside,
T-shirt bared arms warming in the
Early spring sun.
Buds starting to pop
On branches.
Trees and humans alike
Foolishly thinking
Winter was finally over.
Somewhere
Mother Nature
Threw her head back
And laughed.
The colors of this late winter day
Are muted.
Ashy snow-threatening sky
White birch trees stand tall
Planted in the dirty snow.
Even the pine trees exude
A verdant boredom.
Then a flash of red sparks
Through the air.
Then a second
And a third.
Three wondrously colored
Cardinals alight on the
Cold.
I watch them flit from
Tree to tree.
Their delicate winged ballet
Enthralling me.
Reminding me that
Spring is not far away.
The hissing snow is the
Only sound
On a quiet grey-skied day.
The aural orchestra of
Millions of crystals
Crashing to the ground
And breaking.
Sitting on the back step
Squinting against the sun
That bounces off the
Crystal white ground
Snow flutters
Like powdered sugar
On the icy breeze.
The air so heavy
And still.
Except for the
Occasional
Loud crack
Issuing from
The large frozen limbs
That arch over the
Woodland.
We had a few inches of wet snowfall in my area recently and, during the storm, I took my dog out. For some reason, he found a section of brick lying near the house and decided that it would make a fun toy. Yes, he’s weird like that, lol. Anyway, the snow started sticking to the brick as he moved it along the ground with his feet. The thickening snow on the surface made it hard for him to pick up, so he tried to get the snow off by rolling it. Unfortunately, his doggie brain couldn’t process the fact that pushing it, it only added to the amount of snow sticking to the brick. In a very short time, it was encased in a snowy cube about half a foot across and kept growing as he managed to push it down a small hill. Running down to catch up with it, he started pawing at it trying to get the offending snow off and then he resorted to barking at it frustratingly. By this point, I was laughing so hard I could barely stand up, and he looked at me with this expression of, “Mom, it’s not funny!” I was finally able to get him to come inside, but the next day when we went out, he went right back to that brick and continued to try to play with it again. I gotta hand it to him, he’s a determined little guy.
Now the seasons are running down
Cooler weather has come to town.
Soon the trees will be colored brightly
And windows will be opened nightly.
To let the cold air of fall inside
And under blankets and quilts, we’ll hide.
Then comes the night when once a year
Children dress to cause terror and fear
They parade around the neighborhoods
To collect all sorts of goody-goods.
They mingle with other witches and monsters
There’s no way to tell the real from imposters.
Then when they are all tucked in tight
And their dreams are filled of creepy delights
Do the goblins and witches fly away home
To wait another twelve months to roam.
Clouds are a wondrous thing.
They can delight us
With their whipped cream
Interpretations of rabbits and hedgehogs
And they can terrify us when
They turn black and hang low
Enough to touch rooftops.
Darkening day to night
And then releasing a torrent
Of monsoon-like rain onto the
World below.
Every living species is invested
In the same effort
To stay cool.
Standing outside in the
Heavy, heated air
It is so quiet.
The loose folds
Of my blouse
Billow in the weakly
cooling breeze.
The rest sticks to the
Surface of my body.
I retreat to the cool
Darkness of my home
And try to regain my
Ability to breathe
Which the oppressiveness
Of the open air has
Stolen from me.