Famously cruel, April is
today just cold and wet.
Unable to select
from the seasonal menu.
Frozen needles of rain
glaze our morning path.
Our small, sturdy pup
hurls himself ahead.
I reach for his leash
as you totter.
Feet akimbo, hands
in wide gyration.
I seize your arm,
anchor you in place.
Hands quiet again, silent,
steady.
We fall into each other’s gaze,
Turn homeward, grateful.
This lovely poem describes the frequent atmosphere, weather and feeling I have when taking a walk on an April day in Wisconsin, where I live. I understand how the dog is excited and wants to Go! Yet, winter lingers. Caution is the word. Ice is a danger to those who live in the north and ice is often hidden. Much the way our future is hidden. Beautiful Poem!
Thank you,
Shelly