Here in NY we had a snowstorm the whole first day/night of Spring...
March Snow Poem
Winter
like a street urchin
clings with grubby hands
to the sharp black coattails
of Spring.
But our heroic gentleman of note
tips top hat, preens his buttonhole
and strolls out to the painted park on time
strolls and smiles with brass cane style
as if the muddy drag-along
wasn’t kicking up the crocuses
and spitting rancid sleet
in his most classy wake.
March Snow Poem
Winter
like a street urchin
clings with grubby hands
to the sharp black coattails
of Spring.
But our heroic gentleman of note
tips top hat, preens his buttonhole
and strolls out to the painted park on time
strolls and smiles with brass cane style
as if the muddy drag-along
wasn’t kicking up the crocuses
and spitting rancid sleet
in his most classy wake.
RSS Feed