Spring's Bitter Chill

Spring's wind whips ferociously off of the bay's chilled waters,

reminding us that winter's bite still must be reckoned with.

Yellow, white and blue daisies struggle to retain their composure

amid the stiff breezes.

Seagulls attempt to fly overhead, teetering left then right, up then down.

Rigid tree limbs ache, bending in uncomfortable contortions.

Behind me the dark storm clouds push ever closer.

The young girls on the softball field are bundled up from head to toe,

resembling yellow-tinged icicles.

Two small birds whiz by with abnormal velocity.

A group of large pine trees sway frantically,

screaming for my attention.

I imagine I would be quite dizzy hanging from their branches.

The spotty grey clouds over the ocean exhibit a tinge of orange

from the setting western sun.

I lost my courage to stand outside in these conditions years ago.

The warmth of my car comforts me, keeps my fingers from going numb.

The sagging daisies surrender, bowing their heads toward the grass

and quietly await the next warm and sunny spring day.