Not One Telltale Sign
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A cloudy sky pouts, under threat of rain,
as a brisk breeze rattles my windowpane.
While a ghostly fog reinforces doubts,
under threat of rain; a cloudy sky pouts.
There's little change; Winter is persistent,
any trace of Spring is nonexistent.
April is gone, and May is acting strange;
Winter is persistent; there's little change.
Winter is stalling, reluctant to leave,
sending signals, the wishful misconceive.
And defying Nature, She's stonewalling;
reluctant to leave; Winter is stalling.
There's no trace, not one telltale sign of Spring;
climate change is mucking with everything.
Until Winter leaves, Spring won't show Her face,
not one telltale sign of Spring; there's no trace.
We will be in June before you know it,
Spring is stalling; not willing to commit.
Another miserable afternoon,
before you know it, we will be in June.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2019
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