Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Winter Neverending

Wednesday, February 27, 2008
5 comments

Now again upon us like some old musty horse blanket
Winter's bland embrace smothers the land and its inhabitants
no spring swirl of swallows or even a twittering of redpolls
can yet break the trance in which we plod.

Bare branches of ash trees look like witches' brooms
stuck into the frozen ground handle first.
Would there were a witch hereabouts
because I'd barter with her to break this spell.

Oh Winter you've been harsh this year
wielding all of your power yet sharing few of your gifts
I'd like to curse your blinding whiteness,
your gray slush and clinging clay mud, your knifing wind and stinging sleet,
yet what good would that do?

Instead I'll wait you out
'til spring comes 'round to wrest control
when the tiniest zeeee from the first gnatcatcher
sends you scampering to hide behind Autumn once more.

5 comments:

On February 27, 2008 at 10:57 AM Mary said...

Your poems are exquisite and mesmerizing, Bill. I know it's been a tough winter in SE OH, but I would like to have a taste of it, if only for a week or two.

On February 27, 2008 at 11:46 AM Bill of the Birds said...

Hey Mary, we've got winter to spare this year!

On February 27, 2008 at 2:50 PM curlgurl said...

Love your poems. But BTW, that should be "tread" not "trod" for present tense.
I envy you the snow. It's just drippy and gray here.

On February 27, 2008 at 3:41 PM Bill of the Birds said...

CurlGurl:
thanks! You are right.
meant to say plod so it's fixed now.

You can HAVE our snow. More is falling right now on top of three inches on the ground.

Can you tell I'm ready for spring?

On February 29, 2008 at 11:37 AM Mary C said...

Bill, I don't mean to rub salt in the wounds of those still suffering through winter, but sending encouragement that spring can't be far off. We now have several fruit trees blooming, and I've seen some neighbors' hyacinths and daffodils blooming, too. We've had two beautiful clear nights where we could actually see the stars, and two beautiful sunrises. Yet, this morning we woke up to "fog." It's really more of a "marine layer" around here - the sun will eventually "burn it off." Hang in there. BTW, I really enjoyed your poem.


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