How did we get here after nine feet

Of snow fell on my city, my streets

Where I walk unhindered eight months

Of each year? How did we get to this brightness

With trees waving yellow hands and smiling

With cheery red faces? Who allowed spring

.

To be so very short indeed, maybe two months

And then a long, slow summer, not too hot

And, thank God, not humid nearly at all

For a change? This chill in the air cheers

Me, suggests to me even better things

To come, despite the inevitability of winter

.

Just around the corner. I will not say

I am ready for any of it. I will not claim to be

Happy to see autumn go, with its bright

Calm and see winter come, all slippery

And not trustworthy at all, white sidewalks

Preparing now, in secret, to take us down.