the snow along the side of the road
is hard and blackened by passing cars
it's never going to melt.
i sigh and curse each day it hasn't gone
its presence cold and unwelcome.
spring will never come.
though winter's chill is unfailing in its
persistence to overstay its welcome,
soon enough, hope will poke its shy, green face
out of the dirt and into the cool March sunshine.
i can't remember what the trees look like with leaves
i think to myself as i wander through skeletal remains
of formerly glorious oaks, shivering and gaunt in the wind.
but that is reason enough for me to secretly thank the winter
for its freezing winds and bitter cold
for the snow piled high and the gray, clouded skies.
just when i have no memory of spring
and cannot imagine it ever being beautiful and warm
it arrives.
and that is why i love the winter.
without it, i would not love the spring.
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