This is a poem I wrote awhile ago, about Wisconsin weather in March. This year though, spring is late and we have been getting some typical March weather in
April
She teases us with glimpses of spring,
toying with our affections;
one day all sunshine smiles
the next, throwing a snowy snit;
or she can be mysterious,
shrouding herself in fog.
buds and grasses green
at times in spite of her.
We see the sins winter has hidden
now laid bare before us:
November’s leavings,
with the flotsam and jetsam
of our own humanity.
the first flies buzz, sun-drunk
reminding us there are advantages
to the dead time.
The frozen ground softens.
a few brave Snowdrops
shoulder their way through;
resurrection is hard work.
