Rain is soaking Into my muscles, My skin, My bones. Clammy air is in My house. I wait for the furnace To start blowing warmth, And look for a sweater. I think I should put on socks. My mistake, It is too early for sandals. But the grass is greening, Buds are opening. One of these days My mind will turn to yardwork, And I will feel you Watching me as I Take care of your patch Of Earth and strive for Your idea of how it Should be. I'll ask out loud, “Am I doing okay?” I expect that somehow You will let me know I’m doing just fine.
Marble Hill Press 