by Kevin T McEneaney
A dusting of snow to remind us all
that bountiful Spring has not yet arrived
as tall trees skyward splay sleeves of white lace,
chipmunks and squirrels dot-dot their footprints
on lightly dusted gray patio slates
while miniature flecks of snow wander
in fickle breeze when you certainly know
this white mirage schedules a finale
of bone-shivering winter with cruel nights
that linger longer than contemplation
permits while hauling armloads of split wood
to placate said woodstove while one dozes
in dreams of what white-blue skies might arrive
when yellow crocus calls to morning light.
