In Due Time

They were pleasant spring days, in which the winter of man's discontent was thawing as well as the earth, and the life that had lain torpid began to stretch itself. - Thoreau

 

A leaping, late February day reaches up for a ricocheting hand.

Taunting with the gossip of a flock of chattering birds.

The sun does its Sunday best, reaching ever higher in the sky.

A hybernating city stretches and rubs the sleep from its tired eyes.

Mirthful, windy shouts of 'March'ing boots tread  relentlessly forward.

An impending time laments the dead of winter.

The cold, unbelieving chill calls out.

Help me.

Save me.

But alas.

It is not to be.

Spring tries.

As a crippled calendar yields to a joyous juncture.

Faith ushers truth as doubt lies.

A vernal season is resuscitated as a frozen solstice dies ...

Author's Note

"Though I do not believe that a plant will spring up where no seed has been, I have great faith in a seed. Convince me that you have a seed there, and I am prepared to expect wonders." - Thoreau

Reviews

[barleygirl]

The first two lines of your poem exemplify the old adage -- an opening needs to grab the reader. This is so well-crafted, in terms of wordplay, as well as meaning . . . one of your best, as far as balancing these two forces that drive your manner of expression. Here you pump up the poetry while also making an astute, thought-provoking point about being on the cusp betw Feb & March! Here we are well into the mood of March, tho, and winter hasn't taken a stand much at all (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[Pete]

we've had one of the mildest winters on record in boston - very little snow, lots of cold rains. was 60 degrees monday! lots of snow in march a couple years ago though so must keep expectations in check. cabin/spring fever is definitely raising the curtain and thermometer ... :)

[barleygirl]

We got 10" of rain in Dec & not a drop since. We need more, but I love that this could be a short season of weed-whacking! *wink! wink!*

[Kelly Scheppers]

I believe that somewhere beneath that frozen tundra, there are daisies and lilies and wildflowers wanting to stretch themselves in the presence of a glorious sun. Your words always offer me warmth, Pete.

[Pete]

restless spring is starting to stir. 60 degrees today in Boston! ... :)