It's chuck-hole season...
     again!
     Or in this economy...
     still.

I usually dodge'em
     pretty good...
     like a skier
     doing the slalom.

But occasionally
     I have an off day...
     and I hit
     a bad one.

It jurs the tar
     our of me and the car...
     and makes me
     mad at the world.

But I can usually
     continue on
     with bruised tires
     and skewed alignment.

Just as we all
     must do
     when we happen to hit
     one of life's chuck-holes.

'It's a false spring."

A response to my comment
     about nice weather.

I know it's still winter...
     that we usually get some
     out-of-season days.

But I hate hearing
     that there's something
     "false" about it.

Call such days—
     "signs of hope..."
     or "Promise of spring."

Not "false"—but real...
     soft mellow bright
     stirring-up-daffodil days.

Ambition revives with dreams
     of shirt-sleeves and sailing
     ...and even lawn-mowing!

Even winter's depth
     is not bereft of signs
     of Easter's promise.