Spring will come busting in
As certain as death and taxes
Spring will come busting in the front door
all fresh and green somewhere else
Here in Chicago it comes dragging through
the grimy streets like a teenage thug
sullen and morose smelling like
a dumpster behind a meat market
raw and red-eyed as a wino on the skids
But what the hell! Isn't that the charm
of a metropolis built on wasteland
near a great lake? Another pewter
day like most of February
dull and without spark at all
a nightmare city in gray tones
But after Spring gasps to a close
we can look with audacious hope
for Summer!
poem by Michael Pruchnicki
Added by Poetry Lover
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