Balmy days turn flat on their face
A blistering wind
But is it? Perhaps I’ve gone soft with the warm sun’s promises
Wind from the north blows ice and snow under my neck
And I retreat indoors
And layer up
Dogs can wait for walks
Because Springtime-Me
Has been activated and won’t
Turn
Back to the cold
The sun warms my most secret of desires
Awoken by the smell
Of new Apple buds and
Hawthorn leaves that taste of
Spicy sugar
Pheromones of horny birds
Have stirred my being
And no!
I will not go back
Nwyfre 