If I look carefully, I can still catch sight of the bits of
snow which only a short time ago buried us, just a smattering here in those
places where someone had piled it high on curb or lawn for lack of a better
place to put it all, storm after storm, bringing us more and more snow, after a
number of years of no or little snow at all.
I’m not sure if this bodes ill, the returning to what I knew
as a kid, or that there is still hope for the world which is its own mistress,
and perhaps suspects the fantasy wishes of fools who inform us we are so potent
a force we can defy mother nature.
Maybe now, this slow fade out of winter and coming of spring
will tell us we ought to live with what is, rather than making up what we think
we believe, this said, I’m not yet putting the snow shovels away, and will wait
and see.
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