Not One Telltale Sign
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A cloudy sky pouts, threatening to rain
as a brisk breeze rattles my windowpane.
While a ghostly fog reinforces doubts,
threatening rain, an overcast sky pouts.
There's little change; this weather's persistent,
any trace of Spring is nonexistent.
April is gone, and May is acting strange;
this weather's persistent; there's little change.
Winter is stalling, unwilling to leave;
She sends signals, the wishful misconceive.
And defying Nature, She's stonewalling,
unwilling to leave; Winter is stalling.
Not one 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, not one trace.
We will be in June before you know it,
Spring is stalling, not ready to commit.
Another miserable afternoon,
before you know it, we will be in June.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2019
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