No weather lasts forever.
Even this craziness, this winter
that doesn’t want to end.
The sun is still up there,
above the heavy clouds.
There are currants driving the winds.
The blackbirds have returned
and are searching for seeds
and the robins have found the sumac.
It is our grandson’s third birthday.
He talks all the time;
he’s trying to read.
Our granddaughter will be one
two days from now. She
is walking, and working on words.
Small plants, lettuces and pansies,
are growing in greenhouses
and the farmers are potting up tomatoes.
My nephew is feeding his chickens
and gathering the eggs.
There are new black calves in the pasture.
Sometimes I can believe
that the world doesn’t matter,
that what matters is the earth,
and the people who do good work
every day, who walk their dogs
and love their friends.