Return of the Son of the Grass from the Past

like a slow tide
the snow recedes
across the neighbors lawn.
going...going...
but still not gone.

Looking Forward

it's a gloomy gray and dismal day
fresh snow adorns the boughs
a threat of more is in the air
while slush defines the roads
a crusty ice piled landscape
like a tiny mountain range
aligns the path that leads to town
yet none of this is strange
it's February (almost March)
soon spring will spread her arms
to melt the slush and snow and ice
with love and warmth and charm
the arctic winter landscapes
will be replaced with softer things
like grass and leaves and flowers
as the birds begin to sing
while fragrance fills the air
with aphrodisiac elation
and neighbors start to talk again
as they emerge from hibernation
that's something to look forward to
but it's still a month away
today it's cold and bleak outside
another winter day

into the void

I haven't left my apartment
for two whole days and nights
the world awaits me out there
the thought gives me a fright
I could stay in here forever
with my cat, tv and food
but the longer I avoid the world
the less I have a mood
I could waste a day with nothing
but plans of what to do
but when the day has passed me by
Ive still done nothing new
I could almost stop existing
with no proof that I was here
like Howard Hughes without the dough
just slowly disappear

sky

it cracked wide open from the cold
unburdening its pearly load
three feet deep it hid the road
and snowed and snowed and snowed

the wind then started its attacks
first on my face then up my slacks
around my neck and down my back
my poor chapped lips began to crack

the howling wind was not alone
its teeth sank coldly to my bone
I pushed through drifts like waves of foam
the journeys end would be my home

I was not bothered by the snow
or that the wind would choose to blow
it's only winter, plus I know
I've only three short blocks to go

That's Snow Business!