It’s been so cold that my bones are aching
I’m having trouble bending my left thumb
Or did I strain it, when I was skating,
Or holding heavy books on Greece open?
That’s right, I’m not quite sure how it happened
The weatherman has promised us more cold
The grip of winter has this year hardened
Reassuring when we’re so often told
The world is warming, seasons cannot hold
But inevitably we’re all waiting
And longing for the warmth of spring to come
I see how the ancients were so troubled
By fear of the non-appearance of spring
Dictating death to the fertile and young
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