We had a respite from the bad weather.
We asked her to leave. Winter merely sneered,
Arthritic joints cracking as she prodded
The cold log with one gnarled finger, then rocked
Back in her chair to stay “a spell longer”...
And our tears fell like sleet to the carpet.
Then she gasped; we turned and saw the faint glow.
A tiny flame flickered; she jerked back as
It burst from the cold deeps of the fireplace,
Ripples of heat swelling into breakers
That crashed against the frigid hearth and walls.
We rejoiced as the waves swept over us,
Winter’s stumbling exit barely noticed.
A foretaste of spring was never more welcome.
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Sunday, March 7, 2010
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Tis now Seventy-ish. My bones are still crackling, maybe its another trick from Mother Nature. You know she can be a wicked bitch at times. But...there are buds on the trees and sprouting from the ground. Shall we hope again?
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