Snow Snaps

I.

It is March of my 28th year
And bitter snow
Keeps falling through tree limbs.
It never ends

This cold.
Like needle through flesh
This shot
Burns down and calms me.


II.

My mind only rests
Beneath a blanket,
Fresh frozen water
Who overstayed his welcome

Long ago.
Two cardinals converse on a branch.
Like me, they do not know
It is spring.


III.

I am too old
For winter anymore.
Each year, wind feels
Colder. I am beginning to think

The weather here hates
Me. His wicked breath
Smells of petroleum
And rotting pine.









IV.

I do not have answers
For this winter,
But he keeps asking me
About the season
Of tulip nectar and honeybee.

Maybe if he slept
Or ever listened
To quiet music,
He would lose his need
For tedious conversation.


V.

Too soon we reach the worst
Frost to date.
It is a difficult time
In Indiana
Somewhere,

The president rants about war,
Terror or something like it,
While we, in our blue finger madness,
Dig the newborn
Out of the snow.