February Is Short, Cold, Snowy, Pure, Dark, And Pristine

I love the month of February, The coldest month of the season, For an array of emotional reasons. And yet, it feels like she is the longest, For the events that happen haphazardly, Amid treacherous winter storm blasts. Quasi everything is frozen near the nest Of the American bald eagles, Except the Mardi Gras masks under the rumbles. Feb is the month of love, The month of Saint Valentine, A quintessential paradise cove, Where lovers take refuge. Pure, Pristine, Snowy, Short, Pure, Dark, and Lovely; She's now The celebratory month of Black History, One wonders why and how We get the shortest one. It's another story That we should let the nomad seagulls Decipher. No swimmers on the wintry beaches, Solely, a few birds are perched on the branches, Far away from the cribs of the bald eagles. February is a month of kaleidoscopic contrast, Where snowfalls happen quite often, And hardcore lovers dream under a heaven Full of hope, love, beauty, and ice. Copyright © February 2016, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved Hébert Logerie is the author of several poetry books.