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shallow winter

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all fools’ day, the belated spring
twitched his moist nose over the crest
of the brown earth bordering the hole
in which he had overslept
the winter that had held him unconscious
beyond his regularly scheduled waking

what it lacked in depth it offered as length
not as bluntly cold as years before, but sullenly
clinging to the clammy walls of his emerald den
far from the sun behind high cloud
in shades of monochromatic grey

stretches its legs
shakes out the knots in its sinews
and pauses in consternation
is it safe to stay outside, today?

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Written by brian t

April 2, 2007 at 10:02 pm

Posted in ireland, life, poetry

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