In line at the grocery store I listened to
the bagger and checker discuss the weather:
"It just jumped so suddenly.
From the fifties to the seventies."
One said about the first opportunity
we have had to remove our parkas.
"Yeah, we don't even have spring anymore,"
said the other, oblivious, I guess
To the patches of snow lingering in the woods
And the tiny yellow crocus blooming beside
The walkway to my house, and the peepers
each night, growing their chorus of "spring-spring."
The winter was long and dark and cold
it is true. But worse than the weather were
The relentless complaints from people who in
a few months would be moaning about the heat.