In February

In February
Lawn and garden displays mysteriously sprout
In the aisles of stores in Michigan,
But we don't know why they appeared,
Since the ground is still frozen solid.
We wonder why the salt and snow shovels
Were replaced by fertilizer and hand spades
Because after month after month of snow,
Our salt bags are empty and our shovels are worn
but the ice and snow keeps coming.
We assume that retail chains must all be based
In Atlanta or Dallas, Orlando or Los Angeles
Or some other damn place
Where they can see Spring coming
In February

In February
We let cabin fever push us outdoors
On snowshoes and cross-country skies,
Snowmobiles, snowboards, and skates.
We perch on lawn chairs
In fish houses atop frozen lakes.
There we drop thin lines through the ice,
Reaching out as we try to capture
The ones that got away before Winter came.

In February
We exchange Valentines,
Or we rue the lack
And so instead sit in smoky bars,
Nursing drinks and feeling alone,
Wishing to share our pallid winter skin
With another February refugee.

In February
We watch the Daytona 500 on television,
And as boxy stock cars speed by palm trees,
Tank tops, shorts, sunburns, and suntans,
We envy the snowbirds
In February.