Since today is a beautiful sunny day, I want to post an ode to our ridiclious winter. I haven't been able to shake the bone-cold that we've had this season, and I wrote this the other night in frustration. And to imagine, in high school, I was determined to get out of the south and move to Maine. MAINE?!? What was I thinking? Glad I opted for Tuscaloosa, AL instead.
The Unseasonable Winter
Empty, hollow winter -
starlings crowding the street near the curb
and sudden trash - it feels like Sunday.
Whispering white roofs
holding the snow till it falls into the Cumberland -
swelling the brown river
that serpentines and slugs.
In February, the earth quiets, but begins to grow unnoticed.
Nashville stumbles toward spring
with a frostbitten foot and aching joints,
remembering the wavering heat of Fan Fair
as a pleasant but not present memory.
There is the hope of the immigrants
who long and fall and pray; their hope
gets up in the morning icy streets
to head for work.
Metro, MTA Mondays -
hold the masses in your hands- comfort them
in droll days when they wake and try and drink.
Davidson County sleeps and starts,
sighs and shouts aloud.
Davidson County lies silent in winter.
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