Impatient Spring

I stand and wait,
for Old Man Winter to
relinquish and abate.
I bide my time,
till all the land is free
of snowiness and rime.

And now I know,
what tolerance is for...

...lookin’ at winter’s storm,
strugglin’ to keep warm.
Watchin’ the vortex spin,
polar express begins.
Threat of Nor’easter low,
record outputs of snow.
Long is the winter sting;
I am impatient spring.

Beneath the sun,
I stand and wait till all
this wintriness is done.
I offer green,
to field and forest dulled
to unimpressive scene.

Yet now I know,
what tolerance is for...

...winter a hanger-on,
(I wish that he were gone.)
Frosty as he seems fit,
(I’m chomping at the bit.)
So at the door I sigh,
holding a warm blue sky.
Long is the winter sting;
I am impatient spring.


32 Lines
Writer’s Cramp
2-12-15