Sweet smells of earth fill the air
With the damp aroma that parodies spring
As the snow-melt
Drip, drip, drips
Down onto the still-green grass
And black mud.
The lie of it
Drawing children outside mittenless
To bound about in heat
That in midsummer
Would be called cold.
Enjoy, while it is here,
That brief sun that warms the frosted ground
Kissing the earth with light long-hidden.
Turn your face upward
Toward the fickle star
That suffuses your closed eyelids
With the firefly glow
Of scarlet, blood-pounding life.
Hoard that warmth you thought you felt today
Sew it into your fabric
That tomorrow’s blizzard may seek and cut and keen
But freeze not you.