No Winter

No Winter

It’s true that winters aren’t what they were.
No longer is that a thing people say
To remind kids how they had it harder.
I can’t remember the last time the lake
Was frozen, let alone frozen enough
To walk out on, and birds that used to leave
For the winter stay, though they seem to know
They’re not supposed to be here, like people
Who can't pull themselves away from a wreck,
And I don’t even consider wearing
Two layers, nor do I write poems about
The way snow fills the swales of the backs
Of horses, who seem stiller for the fact
Snow is falling, because it never snows.