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.
The trees are moving outside my window.
A silent movie all about autumn ending.
Yellow leaves where green, red and orange
were a few days ago. Winter wind.
In black and white, an unsure season.
The wind blows all day around us.
Doors and windows whistle a cold tune.
Things creak like aboard a ship crashing
rough seas in search of some island –
warm, painted blue water, a gentle breeze.