MARCH SPRING

Here's another afternoon
With the drone of the refrigerator for company;
Outside March hesitates in an intermittent snow
And the words are also difficult to find
When flooded by those aimless thoughts
Drooling from our frontal lobes
In a way which almost makes a poem
If we just can get it down on paper...
We scan the rooms embedded in our memories
For something slightly new or different
That we haven't seen before
In exactly the same way...
We get to thinking
There are times like this for everyone
When nothing really happens
Or goes our way;
The world around us is asleep in sleet,
Disconnected into particles of different dreams;
Some of which we're certain
exhume our lack of discipline,
While others seem delivered
By the intermittent snow.

Ken Siegelman
Brooklyn Poet Laureate