Tuesday Poem

When in Minnesota we arrive at the vernal equinox,

We know that grass and flowers are not quite here,

That more snow will fall on our driveway and sidewalks,

And that spring, as always, will be late this year.

I am not complaining, though if I did, I could go on all day,

I am tired, I am full of sadness, I am deeply depressed,

But I am not going to talk about it because I am okay.

We have always been okay, here in the Midwest.

If it snows in April, we don’t curse, except to say, “Uff-da.”

If it snows in May, we say, “Oh, for pity’s sake.”

God in your mercy, please do not allow the ice on our roofta

Crush us in our sleep. Anything short of that, we can take.

And when the crocuses do come up, and the tulips, and the purple gentian,
We feel tremendous joy, though it is not anything we would ever mention.
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