Daffodils and Ice

Nine degrees outside my door.
Acres of iced white hide the brown below.
Not even a coyote dare crunch its way across the frozen land
for now.

Morning news, colder than the air that wraps my abode.
Pathetic in false relevancy to anything real.
Bloviators.
Leaders.
Foolish spawns fat on toxic waste spewed from golden towers
thick in greed and power.

Find a thread of truth, spin it into platinum lies
discourse,
divisiveness,
hate,
deception.

Meanwhile bright yellow lights of daffodils
blossom above the earth where the winter soil warmed,
amiable to florals earlier than norm.

I gaze at those photos scattered like sunshine
over a clouded media of unkind words,
lackluster thoughts and deeds,
while the land around me glistens in this frozen moment.

“Patience,” not my best attribute, is whispered over
the sparkling alabaster landscape.
“Daffodils will bloom here soon.”

—-Charmaine Coimbra, February 5, 2020