March 16th, 2010

March 16th, 2010

Sitting outside, with my back against the house,
Sipping warm, creamy chai; the spice
Of winter lingers in my mouth,
While the sun warms my bones.

Gentle breeze lifts my paper
Blackbird calls from the edge of the pond,
Which has no ice on it now, well,
A little bit far down there.

The sun tingles on my skin
So white, could I get a tan
Sitting here five minutes more?
Not yet, I have to thaw first.

A hen and rooster are scratching in the dirt
He tries to tackle her and she runs off
Fluffing her feathers in disgust,
But perhaps she likes him just the same.