Staring Through a Window on a February Afternoon

The sky-line falls and rises like the tempo of a tune

Where wind stampedes, an obscure tyrant vexing tattered pine

The valley yearns for sparkle of a sun-warm afternoon

With children running barefoot ‘neath the curling merlot vine

The hillside slopes toward the sallow span of waning day

No laughing lover strolls this winter-stricken solitude

Surreal the fancy of spring’s darling apple-blossom May

Where February walks in gray, a maiden plain, subdued

The blustering battalion of sleet-snow-squall regiment

Is in sore need of furlough; we encourage its retreat

How long will Time insist on emptying its discontent

In fresh volley of vandals shod with ice upon their feet?

The doggerel of daisy day-dreams dangles daringly

Beyond the frosted window-pane against the snarling air

Are silver sun-swept seashores but fine fairy frippery?

I’ve heard spring-peepers serenade the dusk, but where, oh where?

The skyline falls and rises; what a moody madrigal

But I am not a damsel in distress nor prone to fret

The horse and rider in the sky is preordained to fall

Thus I know that its steel facade will spill its violets yet

© Janet Martin