Close Enough
Mar 10 2010


There is the official start to spring —
the alignment of planets,
the tilted axis
of earth.
But winter ended early
and the season is up for grabs.

We emerge from darkness
into limbo,
wet snow, bare ground
the sound of returning birds.
The weather, uncertain,
the tempting warmth.

The morning sun
slants-in the kitchen window,
a parallelogram of light
on the cool ceramic floor.
The rectangle skews, narrows
as it moves,
the day gets later.
The dog follows,
basking in warmth
too lazy to chase.

Looking out
the sunlight hurts,
eyes accustomed to winter.
The lawn submerged
in grey snow, pools of water,
the rough dirt lane
a muddy lake.

The sun is like a heavy-lifting machine,
its radiant heat
drying out the soil,
filling the warm damp air.
I crack a window,
breathe-in
the earthy smell of spring.
When the radio warns
of a low pressure system
heavy snow.

Unseasonably cold.
So it’s a cozy night
a blazing fire
the dog at the foot of the bed
for warmth.
And a lazy morning —
close enough to spring
the luxury of sun,
no need to shovel anymore.