Spring in the Alps

This the scene of winter’s last:
Beauty turned to rock and mud;
Gardens filled with chloroplast,
Young girls rushing out to bud;

Ice revealing secret sands,
Aspens fuzzily apt to glow,
Species grouping into stands,
Frost increasingly incognito,

Ski resorts exposed as shams,
Cinderblocks beneath the firn,
Eroded slopes below the trams,
And dates not likely to return:

Get in the car
And head out
Where the bonfires are,
And life, without doubt—

Waste the whole day
On a meaningless beach,
A second-rate bay,
A girl beyond reach,

Her sad muffled calm
Lost in the tides,
Twigs turned to palm,
Girls turned to brides:

Greener than limes,
Only their Swatches
Give meaning to times
Which sigh on the watches,

And thickly and quick
So it covers the soil,
The lingering sick,
The left-behind loyal,

Something is found,
A different wind blows,
The sky turns around,
And one last time, it snows.

June 24th, 2020