In the winter-time, in
You stay huddled in the city
Safe amidst the salt and slush - the
Hamster’s wheel metro a mere two blocks
It is only when Spring
Breaks upon the land, like a golden egg,
And the threat of ice and snow recedes
That you venture forth with
Seek the hawthorn and alder tangle,
The grace of maple-blessed hillsides.
Oh! Receive me, sweet Mother that is the land!
Or you head South,
Pretend you feel at home there.
Pretend it’s better.
Still, you’re waiting
For Winter’s well-known imperatives
To melt away,