Has promised spring two months before its date
Adulthood brings a plaintive worry there
That questions what it means about our fate.
A warm spring day in February finds
For those who can enjoy it, warmth and cheer;
The rest of us, with nasty little minds
Look on our thermometers with fear.
Perhaps I should embrace the child's wonder
Which lives but in the moment of the sun
And does not fear the danger of the thunder
That comes when this brief warming time is done
But I cannot; the most that I can do
Is let her hope, not raise my own anew.
