Saturday, January 26, 2008
What ee called in just spring
I call "meltdown."
his was a celebration for the balloon
man, who "whistled far and wee,"
while mine is lamenting the possible
end of winter.
The frog will wake up and notice
that his limbs are a little stiff
like the balloon man who is first
lame and then goat footed.
The fish will become hungry and
notice that there are not yet
insects or vegetation to feed upon.
The ice will disappear in the
pond, never to be seen again.
My heroic neighbor,
an airplane gunner in WWII,
will rise up from his easy chair
to mow the leaves.
Spring is not all that it
is made up to be,
but in a pinch,
I'll take it.
I told my grandson Charlie what my teacher told me 60 years ago... that a work of art is finished when none of the original idea remains. So...