We are fools, watching and waiting
with our spades and forks held high
for this endless seasonal struggle
between winter and spring
to end with spring the victor.
I sit with garden porn on my lap
shuddering at Mother Natures
onslaught ravishing the landscape.
The asphalt of the drive seen yesterday,
the first since November, is no longer
in view, swallowed by the white shite
blowing in from the north, swallowing
all in its path, suffocating every living being.
I ponder, could it be my own emotions
causing this, the will to live again
against the crushing feel of neglect
and so I lash out and call to her
to allow me feel, but for one moment,
the torment in others, unbeknownst
to them, that they have caused in my life.