Easter Sunday

On Tuesday, it was eighty.
Easter Sunday, we got a foot
and a half of snow. It is hard
to have sunny, creative thoughts
when the weather is crapping
an inch an hour on all things.

I can't imagine sailing ships,
human cargo, or maligned
pirates. Winter has returned.
I can't create a flowering
garden when the ground
is being as choked as I.

I can only submit that I
am weak and bleak today.
Tomorrow might be better,
but real life returns instead.
Maybe some snow will
melt and a daffodil won't.