Where Is She??

Winter languishes and lingers into March
Her long, icy tentacles cling to the pines for dear life
The crystalline strands of her hair hang from the gables
She clutches at the landscape refusing to leave
No dance, no sounds, no warm breath of the first days of spring are evident
No birds are harkening the maiden’s arrival
No kaleidoscope of color is evidenced from the crocuses that must force their way through
The whitewash winter has wrought
Frigid winds still snap at the sunrise
Warning spring that winter is not ready for retreat
Even though
The woodpile has waned
The car is chalked with salt
The lake is still glassed over
And the crows scavenge for the last kernels of last year’s crop beneath the snow
Where is the fair maiden lingering?
Why does she not even tease us with one day of her warmth?
No wave of robins returned
No cats curled in the sun on the porch
No gaggle of geese on the lake
No redwing blackbird calls at dusk
Just ashen white silence
Where is she? Has the maiden forsaken us this year?

C. Schrage