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.
What a great write.