PAD 2019 – #4 April

PAD is drawing to an end for another year. Today’s prompt was to remix a poem from earlier in the month. I decided to remix my poem from Day One. You can read both below.

 

Can’t Fool Me

 

April first brings ice on the windshield

to try to fool me

to say it isn’t spring in Alabama

But I’ve seen azaleas in bloom

and green shoots springing up

between winter’s dead blades

I’ve opened the front door

felt the breeze flow in

then out the back

being thankful for the screens

though they can’t stop all the pollen

from creeping in

to coat the porch in yellow

Longer days make me lose track of time

as I savor the sunshine

and postpone supper

All this says spring

You can’t fool me, April first

 

Not Fooled

April tried to fool me

with ice after azaleas

but now the lawn is green

the air a sweet perfume

mornings are cool

afternoons balmy

when the roses said hello

the pollen said goodbye

spring is loud and lovely

I listen to her and smile

yes, April tried to fool me

but May is on the way

 

 

 

April in the South

The PAD prompt  for Day 14 was the word “report”. Here’s mine.

 

April in the South

Canceled plans for the day

Checked radios and batteries

All day long the weatherman predicts

But no one really knows

Just when and where

In the backyard cardinals gather

Do they understand?

Where will they shelter when the storms arrive?

A breeze belies what is to come

A brief reprieve in the heavy air

Pressing all around

A pale haze under darkening skies

Waiting, waiting

 

Weather Thoughts

With cold weather coming on Wednesday,, I thought I’d revise and repost these thoughts on weather.

E.B. White was a man who truly had a way with words. If you don’t know who he is, he’s the author of the children’s classic, Charlotte’s Web. When talking about the first flakes of snow falling, he said,

“At first it was an almost imperceptible spitting from the gray sky…”

I love the way he put it – such a perfect way to describe this scene. This is how I want to write.

Below are some pictures from February, 2015, when we had that “…imperceptible spitting..”

And I’ll leave you with this to enjoy…

 

 

Boots

Last year  I wrote  a poem a day  for PAD, Writer’s Digest’s Poem A Day challenge: the prompt for day 23 was “footwear”.  I instantly thought about the excitement of my first winter in Birmingham when I got to wear boots day after day. And then I thought of 2015 when I was hiking in Montana. After a hard trek to Iceberg Lake, I took off my hiking boots and plunged my feet into the water that was about 40 degrees. Needless to say, I barely lasted 15 seconds.

Once again it’s boot weather here in Alabama and I still love the look and comfort of all my boots!

 

Boots
I was so pleased to move
to a place
where I could buy boots
and actually wear them
That first boot winter
was so much fashion fun
Those boots gave me
warmth and style
Gray, brown, black –
I loved them all
But by month six
My Florida feet were
longing to be set free

 

A Thought From All the Light We Cannot See

 

“Werner thinks of his childhood, the skeins of coal dust suspended in the air on winter mornings…” from All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr

For some reason, this stirred a childhood memory of milk. For a very short time when we first moved to Jacksonville, FL, we had our milk delivered by the “milkman”. On our front porch sat a metal crate where we would leave our empty bottles and take delivery of fresh milk. I remember the tops were sealed with thick paper lids. This milk was probably from Skinner’s Dairy, a hometown company that later built numerous drive-thru milk stores across Jacksonville.

In north Florida it didn’t get cold very often, but there were some winter mornings when we were excited to be able to see our breath in the chilly air. There was one winter I’ll always remember as the temperature got down in  the upper teens and our heat went out. Our dad was out of town at the time on one of his many business trips. We bundled up and played outside anyway. The very large ditch – like a creek – behind our house was frozen on the top. Our friend’s little dog, Ginger, skittered across easily. Our dog, Dixie, followed her and went right through to the icy water.

Other fall and winter days were filled with my brothers playing football in the front yard and a few evening fires in our fireplace. In high school it was a time to wear stylish sweaters to school, then go outside for PE in the short gym suits we had to wear. I remember being teased about the chill bumps on my legs – referred to as chicken skin.

After moving to Birmingham in 2014, I was so excited about our first fall and winter. Sweaters and boots and scarves were so much fun! But, then it seemed to last forever and I yearned for the warmth of spring.

Last year, summer far outlasted its welcome. And this year we’ve had our share of hurricanes in the south. Now I long once more for the cool air and some justification for a pumpkin spice latte.

Wait, I Say

I was listening to a sermon a while back by Alistair Begg, and something he said stuck with me. It was this: “There are lessons in the waiting room.”

No one really likes waiting, whether in a grocery store line, at a drive-thru, or in a doctor’s office. Or through a very long Birmingham winter. Yet, if the lessons there aren’t learned, the time is wasted. I know I have wasted away many of these cold, gray days wishing for Florida’s warmth, literal and familial, instead of counting the blessings of a fireplace, food, shelter, husband and dog.

Spring is just around the corner, and I know that even though the trees may bloom and the grass may green, my heart will stay stone cold if I remain ungrateful for all the good things, and even all the hard things, God has given me.

Wait for the LORD; be strong and take heart and wait for the LORD. – Psalm 27:14