We're ingrates, that much is clear.
Still, Winter is forgiving.
Not that he enjoys popular depictions
as a grumpy old man who refuses
to leave. He grudgingly admits
that Spring, renowned as a lovely
young woman has trumped him in
the public relations sphere but
he keeps trying. March is on the horizon
nonetheless Winter calls upon his
elements day after day to launch new
snow events. Obtuse to the fact of
weather-fatigue that grips his public.
Where early in his reign there is rejoicing
at the first appearance of that wondrously
brilliant substance that covers the landscape
and enchants the eye as it embroiders
all beneath the sky, sensations shift the
longer Winter sustains his stay
gifting us time and again with the spectacle
of snowflakes lazily tumbling down
shifted by the wind, illuminated by the
winter sun -- oh still beautiful to be sure
but the yearning for Spring renewal
cannot be denied and the jury has
delivered its verdict: Winter must leave.
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