Postcards

Today I walked
along the streets
of this fair city

it is winter, and so
transformed, as seasons
are in conflux

the snow has gathered
though not yet
but a few inches
it coats the trees,
branch to twig

the worst of the ice
is sidewalk melt
proximal to the heat
of vehicular traffic

this will endure
for as many as six months

curmudgeons, such as
myself
barker indoors, with not
but a sneer
for the gloom
of pedestrian sorrow

snively, weepy faces
rubbed, and ill of temper
I’ve no lot in it

with spring will come
the geese, though not
so numerous as the
pre-winter flocks
they are home to
older dwellings
further north

hardly decent griff, this
but I expect
you knew that.

© Emerys Watchel, 2015 All rights reserved.

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