Any Day

Any Day

(“Look! The winter has passed, the winter rains are over and gone.” Song of Solomon 2:11)

Any day the tides may turn, the storms cease their
constant refrain along the easements of unsettled minds.
The thoughts once frozen can surely thaw,
the bristly sleet will warm to glad sheets of rain,
the day will begin early again.

We have heard the announced arrival, the blizzard
whistling down the gorge, the roar hugging the coulees,
and the doors slamming shut until the icy wind
and stinging snow have built their glistening lean-tos on
every western exposure.

We double down on comforters and hot chocolate.

But the day when the last snow shrivels, the final rain withers,
we hardly remember the hardships of winter. The daffodils
burst like butter, the lilacs perfume the ripening breeze,
while miscellaneous floes beg the inlets and shadows.

The first day of bare-feet, t-shirts and Dairy Queen
erases the hard reckoning that wears out our heavy coats.
The second week in a row we have to water the roses
we know no other season than the one when love is
likely to whisper. The girl with the braids
sees the boy with the braces for the first time since
Spring sang its arrival clear.