The birds sense winter coming this morning.
Sparrows flutter, fight and search the eaves
for hiding places from the next season.
Blue jays, cardinals, chickadees, all anxiously feeding,
reminding me of things still left undone.
This year was the summer that wasn’t.
Circumstances made the months pass us unnoticed
It was a Southern hemisphere season here.
A winter landscape when summer was due.
Our world’s axis tilted from the sun.
The pussy willow showed its furry catkins
early during a warm February week and
are now covered with heavy March snow.
We want to be optimistic. The universe
sometimes agrees – and sometimes laughs at us.
A sunny April day in late January.
A warming strong wind the past days
erased the remaining snow, dried the ground.
I took tea outside and read new poems.
Buds watching me chuckled over my joy.
Sundial gnomon, or stick in the ground,
reveals its longest shadow to me today.
The sun has drifted south to set.
Now, it will move steadily northward again,
returning for spring to the celestial equator.