Reprieve – II
It's spring-like weather here in New York City.
Pedestrians open heavy winter coats.
A night of rain has left some curdled clouds,
But elsewhere there's a sky of baby blue.
A seagull sails across – and little birdsHave perched upon a tree. They tweet and sing.
We watch, at solstice, Nature's sly burlesque –
December strutting like she still was May.
I'd thought the songbirds all had fled, but now
I wonder where their little nests are hid.
At winter's start, official, this reprieve
Unsettles me. I can't find rhyming words.
And yet, it's solstice – so this shortest day
Is ending, yielding to the longest night.
A golden sun is sinking in the west
And painting, warm, the walls – as sun does best.
How many days like this has Brooklyn seen,
When winter teases men with show of spring...
But three more months of cold and dark remain,
Till April comes, at last, with true relief.
And if some say, "You're fighting Nature." then
I would reply, "For sure, I've failed to flow.
I wait, impatient, for the days like this.
But you are free to take delight in snow."
For soon enough, we will be blanketed.
And white, pristine, will turn to gray and black.
And some may still be smiling then – at that.
But I'll stay grim until the equinox.
2013 December 21 Sat.