There are days when winter deceives.
She paints her eyes with bright yellow sunbeams
And sweetly smiles as dark clouds recede from skies.
“What a delightful day!” one thinks,
As her docile breath stirs and flows
Through deep green fieldgrass glinting beneath sunny eyes.
But alas, the spells are broken when the window opens.
The docile wind is keen-edged knives
Coughed out from a blue, ice-iron sky.
The sunbeams are gaudy mascara
Caked thick and sticky over winter’s hard lines.
All is thus revealed a chimera,
And winterwife’s embrace reveals a cold shoulder.
You realize the truth when you reach out to hold her:
That the beauteous get-up is a masquerade
Hiding the hard cold which has supplanted warm days.
©2012 Daniel Lowry. All rights Reserved.