So now I remember why I like the snow:
after a winter of over one hundred inches
(a record, at least) that threatens to make us go
crazy (or to Florida) with the cranes and finches
and herons and swans and all the rest of those
summer visitors— enters all, no long-term
leases here, no home-owners, no rash purchases
over budget, no mortgages or sub-prime loans—
snow remains the best excuse for sloth,
for staying warm inside and hunkering down,
ambition and commitment heading south.
Spring! The sun and every flower's a clown
noodgying us back to life: Get to work!
On every tree a bud, a leaf, a smirk.