February, too, has doldrums:

after tinhorn holiday cheer

and the biting clarity of January air

an onslaught of dullness

endless gray flecked with icy rain

blankets ambition, wraps summer’s vitality

in layers of damp wool

the soul huddles

its paper cup, forgotten, rolling in the wind

“-ONATIONS” writ in ballpoint pen


THAT BEING SAID, if the past is any indicator, spring is probably coming soon – and with it a little something to put in that paper cup. (Live)



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