An Unseasonable Disarrangement

Did you feel that?

That tiny nibble on the edge of things,

that quiet bzzz on the very tip of an upper rib...
I love these skinny days in March!

I shun that awful April thaw, that happy May,

those shiny days of June.

I crave dull, pencil-shredded nights and sleeted mornings,

frozen with muddy footprints marking off the year,

those tripping ruts and deadly shallows.

How dare you sting me with the sun.