The sky is blue.

The snow is melting.

The paper whites are fading.


Is is it over?


you confuse me at times.

The view from my window says come outside and play in the sun.

Are brumal days and nights over?

Is Mama Bear being tempted on this fine winter morning to emerge from her hibernaculum?

Her secret winter home,

dug within the hillside

covered with majestic Ponderosa pines

that I see outside my window,

may also be heating up in this weather.

Will she be out today?

Or will she,

like I,

prefer to stay tucked inside a cozy den

where one does not have to deal with the vicissitudes of weather and life?