A Spring Cleaning

Bits and pieces lay scattered

on the pages of my journal,

nothing complete

a sentence or two

of poems or prose

that I started long ago

the words lying there

as lifeless as dry bones

waiting for the fire,

that moment of creativity

that will bring them to life

giving them vibrant colors.

These bits and pieces

reflect the tattered shreds 

of my own mind,

thoughts and memories

that lay scattered 

littering the landscape.

How does one choose?

It’s like cleaning house

in the spring,

what gets kept,

what gets tossed?

Each word,

each phrase,

each incomplete sentence,

has a unique beauty 

that is hard to ignore.

So maybe it’s time

to open the windows

let in a fresh breeze

to clear the mind

and set the spirit free,

to air out the winter doldrums

giving new life 

to these words I write.

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A Warm Spring Day in Winter

The warm sun shone on the trees

old Mr. Possum lying in the branches

as the woodpecker taps away

and squirrels dig up our crocus bulbs

to be replanted elsewhere.

In the bushes and branches birds chatter

carrying bits of grass and straw 

building nests preparing their homes.

I watch this miracle unfold

sitting out on a warm day

just listening to the sounds all around,

what some would say is a waste of time.

The joyfulness of life as trees begin to bud

and daffodils peak through the ground

searching for the suns golden rays.

That old possum begins to stir

maybe it’s the noise of the day

after all he is nocturnal 

and not much of a daytime animal.

So he stretches himself out

as he painstakingly begins to move

not rushing, like the birds or squirrels,

he takes his time, 

savoring the moment

as if he knows that this will not last long

that this unusual warm, winter day

will vanish with the cold north wind.

But for now his lesson is clear

a reminder to me to take my ease

to enjoy those moments of peace

not rushing from place to place

but just to sit and be at peace

letting the warm sun shine on my face

to linger over a cup of coffee

while gazing up at the blue sky

City Snow Day

The poem starts with gently falling snow

that blankets the world outside

and all is subdued and quiet

while in the house a cozy fire burns

and someone is looking out the window

to describe the fairy tale scene

then there’s the reality of the city

where the snow bottles up traffic 

people cursing stepping into slush

the snow plows going up and down 

their blades creating sparks on the streets

trying to keep ahead of the storm

while on the television reporters drone on

one out by the ocean

standing in the wind with sleet stinging 

giving us a live report of the devastation 

while inside the kids are ramped up

unable to burn off any energy

yes, it is beautiful but the next day its clean up

out in the cold, blustery day to move the snow

what was a wonderful, scenic calm day

now turns into a long day of recovery

followed by Ben-Gay and ibuprofen

so that one can return to work

and the kids can get back to school

while you look at the calendar

counting how many days until spring.