Mud Season Sonnet

That season when I fall–and fast!–headfirst
From book to book like some great crazed fish
That, leaping from one puddle to the next,
Knows only that the water will not last:
Soon comes Mud Season and swift following
Will come Summer with its fertility,
When I will put down books and read the soil,
Find words and signs in leaf and stem and flower.
So let me dream and write and read for now
Until the sun baked snow all turns to mud,
Prepares the way for seeds to crack and seek
The ground they’ll use for pitching to next year.
Mud Season’s slop and mire is my last chance
To read before the Summer’s long, slow dance.

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About janemwoodman

Singer, writer, restaurant reviewer, urban farmer, devoted lover of my husband....old and getting happier all the time.
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