When I can’t get off my butt, there’s nothing like a kick to do the trick.
I’m beginning to value pain. To reinforce that value I think of it as the whispering of angels calling me to pay attention. Of course, I could just as well think of it as a kick in the butt, but this is supposed to be a poem, and there is more to reality than meets the eye.
This is also supposed to be about spring, but all I hear about is winter. So. More snow? Or is it time for winter to get off its butt and go?
PAST WINTRY PAIN
COMES SPRING-BOLD RAIN
WE START AGAIN