Tuesday, March 30, 2010

In Which Spring Break Affects Even Your Humble Sonneteer

I do believe that spring may come at last.
The bank clocks says it's seventy degrees
Outside. And water drips and spreads as vast
And dirty banks of snow melt (they'll refreeze
Again; it's only March) become the mud
That marks the season. Spring break in the park
With my friend Bonnie, a stir in my blood
Arose as kites flew overhead. A stark
And vivid contrast to how I have spent
Such afternoons of late, huddled and cold,
A bikeskimo in layers of clothes and bent
Close to the handlebars, windswept yet bold.
Now ease and sunlight mean I have to share
The greenway with more folks, but I don't care!


Again, sorry about the Captcha, but the spam comments are getting out of hand.