Sunday, March 29, 2015

March Encounter

March Encounter

So March has end, with hints of better days.
The twigs are taut with buds, but winter stays.
For though the city streets were washed by rain,
There’s snow that’s coming – so the forecast says.

I see an elder, trudging down the road.
He's stooped by winter and his heavy load.
I look at him, as in a reverie,
And I am him, in a transcendental mode.

He walks the streets and sees the buds and dreams
That winter’s gone, with all its harsh extremes,
And gentle spring is here, with smiling warmth...
So glaciers thaw and turn to babbling streams…

He bears his memories still of winters past
And wondrous summers that had faded fast.
And in his autumn now, he's walking slow
And wondering if this March will be his last...
But what is that, which sits within his head,
Where naught should be but there is snow instead,
Compacted into ice, and sullied, dark,
Awaiting spring, but still encased in dread?
I look away, for such a tie can lead
To knowledge that is misery indeed...
Let winter leave and spring arrive in haste,
So plants and beasts can have the warmth they need.

2015 March 29th, Sun.
(4th stanza added April 1st, Wed.)
Brooklyn, New York

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