On Any Day That’s Not Quite Winter

As if she has forgotten that

we are still February, the air is warm.

Steamy rain streams out of clouds

into puddles. Adventurous carp flip

their fins, adding yet more ripples.

The air is shy as if

she’s scared of carrying fish

from their pools, into the

arching birch trees. Waves of breezes waltz

lightly with the river’s current. Delicate

whistles set the beat.

All of the water’s inhabitants

quiet to listen. The air is humming

as if she has an idea

on the tip of her tongue.