BLUES IN THE FROST

I. THE MILD WINTER BLUES

Where are those snows, those snows of yesteryear?

I mean, where have they gone, those yesteryear

Snows we used to plow through?  They’re not here,

And that's for sure.  The January wind

Is hardly wind at all — a late March wind

At worst.  What did they do, go and rescind

Winter?  What is this, a "greenhouse" easing,

An ozone-acid-rainfall-smoggy easing

Into June forever? Alaska's freezing!

It's eighty below zero up in Barrow!

Nothing works in Barrow that you can borrow,

Beg or steal, not even people.  Tomorrow?

Much the same, they say, or worse.  Oh, whether

It's changing or the same now or forever,

The weather is the weather is the weather.

II. TYRANNY

It's February now, and it is snowing.

It started snowing back in bleak November

And kept on snowing all through cold December.

But that was nothing.  In January flowing

Snow came riding bareback on the blowing

Wild west wind.  No one could remember

A colder month or a more arctic winter.

It's still that way.  If anything, it's growing

Worse and worse.  We're halfway through the month,

And nothing's getting better.  We are still

Buried in the deep-freeze — crème-de-menthe

On ice-cream.  Borealis, it takes some skill

To be a tyrant.  Call yourself a mensch?

This isn't cruelty, it's overkill!

III. PRUFROCK IN A NUTSHELL

And in anagram rhyme

Sometimes you need to hope for something large

To happen — you hope and pray for something large.

You need a blast, something with boom and glare!

Even though it’s spring it seems like winter.

It may be mild, but still it seems like winter —

Your quilt is not a comfort but a twiner

That muffles you in dreams you can’t recall,

In dreams you know you’d rather not recall

Like that abusive message from the midnight caller.

You need just once to be a major mage,

A Magus Magister, no minor mage —

You need to belt the run that wins the game!

You want to hear the shout and not the whimper

Fate likes to hand to you perhaps perwhim.

CORRESPONDENCE IN FEBRUARY

Groundhog Day has come and gone,

So how’s it going where you are

Up there in Maine? Are you thin and drawn

Or fat and sassy? The calendar

Tells me that the chilly dawn

Comes early now, and earlier —

        C’est bon, n’est-ce pas?

I’m weathering the winter,

Withering in the wearing wind.

Valentine’s Day is over and done,

So how are things now where you live

Up there Down East? Are you still alone,

Or was there someone new to give

You chocolates or your dog a bone?

What’s up with love strained through a sieve –

        C’est tres bourgeois!

I’m weathering the winter,

Weary in the weathering wind.

President’s day won’t be rerun

Until next year, so how’s it going?

Has sap in the maple trees begun

To drip? Are the buckets overflowing,

And how’s the love life? Anyone

Contributing to your fire’s glowing?

        Priez, dites moi!

I’m weary of the winter

And withering in your wearing wind!

Copyright © 2012 Wesli Court