Where Are You Spring?

Outside it is blowing snow and sleet. By now it should be spring. Even when the squirrels come out to eat, they too are shivering. I can’t quite see across the street, through the barrage of white confetti. By this afternoon there’ll probably be two feet. For this I am not ready. I long to see the temperature reach seventy, then out to the garden I’d go. OK, right now I’d be happy with twenty, and maybe a little less snow. I know it’s just a matter of time, before all the white will turn green. So for now I’ll just grab me a glass of wine, and sit by the window and dream. Copyright: February 21, 2009