The Long Winter

It is snowing again,
blowing from the south
like a fourth season of winter

as we have already had
the early snows from west winds
the midwinter snows from north winds
and the spring snows from east winds.

Rob said don’t start your seeds yet,
don’t do it.

Snow in layers like tree rings,
like sandstone bands in every shade
of white.

Like a story by some Nordic Saramago,
like Snow Blindness, The Snow Cave,
Baltasar and Blimunda in the Snow.

We are Pleistocene creatures
living in the Holocene Epoch,
but calling a tiger Kitty
does not make her so.

And you could name your daughter April
but still she’ll decide when to march.

And still no sign of the Sandhill cranes.




About Ray Sharp

Father, poet, triathlete, local public health planner
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