Now you’re just teasing us with these
popcorn clouds scudding by one moment

and thick gray clodhoppers overhead
the next. You dangle spring before us

like a carrot before the horse, like
catnip treats I offer the cat before

sneaking in to pill him. He is not
pleased at my subterfuge, as we

are not with this on-again, off-again
glimpses of the abundance to come.

Or is this a challenge: to see the beauty
in the gray, in the chill, not wait to

revel in bright warmth and gumball
color popping at us? To recognize

that the season has commenced,
even if it doesn’t look like it?

Then let me walk into this day
and peer at the pewter ceiling that,

for the moment, is not shedding
moisture on us, and smile at

the altostratus clouds cloaking
the sky, obscuring the sun, which,

we remind ourselves, always shines,
even when we can’t see its luminous,

smiling face.