Spring came early this year


dark winterSpring came early this year.

It is not my best season. Something

About the light, the length of the day increasing

Irritates rough edges of nerves.


Sunlight, unrelenting.

I shield my eyes and join

Throngs of travelers

Reveling in balmy breezes.


Better, winter dark,

The close blanket of cloud

That hangs on the buildings downtown.

The rain and snow and wet.


A time of thoughtfulness,

Twilight reminds me of love

And the end we all come to,

Melancholy that moves inward.


Primordial this urge, visceral.

A caveman seeking

Warmth in the cave

Where light filters in dim through the opening.


I hope the rains come soon,

The sky grows dark,

The fog and blurred dawn

The thunderstorm making early night


Redbuds flower and soon the lilacs will erupt

In fragrant bouquets of bloom

I treasure them, even as they remind me

Winter’s still a long way away.

Published by

Patrick Dobson

Patrick Dobson was founded in 1962. He is a writer, scholar, ironworker, and poet who lives in Kansas City, MO. He is author of two books with the University of Nebraska Press, Seldom Seen: A Journey into the Great Plains (2009) and Canoeing the Great Plains: A Missouri River Summer (May 2015). Dobson is a work in progress until termination.

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