It is most definitely Spring

It is most definitely Spring
Christopher Bogart

It is most definitely Spring,
Unless, of course, winter returns.

Cold rain whips against our window panes.
As the blustery breezes of March toss limbs of trees,
Roar like a speeding freight train down our streets as if
To beat the memories of ice and snow
Far from our reach, pushing them
Into the deep recesses of our winter memory.

They will soon be replaced, we live in hope,
With the promise of balmier breezes,
Light green shoots breaking through hard ground,
Reaching to the sky to uncover their hooded heads
And reveal yellow trumpets, deep red cups, and purple grape clusters
That toss their heads at a new sun.

The course of winter has run.
We turn the clocks forward as our hopes advance
To the anticipation of different climes,
Brighter days,
And a change to new ways to spend time.

We march, enthusiastically, to these future dreams,
In lockstep, it seems,
While dancing to the new tune the new winds play.
We mark the day.

It is most definitely Spring,

Unless, of course, winter returns.