Informed by the weather

There's a creepy old man hanging around
evidenced by white fringed footprints
not cement and dirt and crocuses and
muted greens

When confronted, he
leaves, he threatens to leave

And the trees do the same

But we're at a standoff

We wait for the flirt of Spring's skirt, kirtle
and mantle. She flares her petticoats, dusts the snow off her hem and
tangos through the bare trees to somewhere safer

Nature, it's her nature
She can bounce either way, that's
why we call her Spring and flip our
calendars backwards at her whim

Today, today we harness the power of our collective minds
take a stand against the power of the old man
Winter only wants to be loved, pressed against our hearts
a while longer

Imagine being so cold

But instead we scorn him, claim it wasn't snow on the lawn and rooftops
it was overdressed raindrops who didn't get
the memo.

The children run out to the lawn in shorts, sandals
make snow angels,
pretend it's sand.

And Old Man Winter fades back into the bushes like
the unwanted vagrant he
is.

But you know we'll see him
again.