Feeling the warmth of the sun on a cloudy day. A glimpse into a blind billy goat's unique, ever changing perspectives.

2017 04 10 Poetry, Southern Winds April 15, 2017

Hello again, and here’s to a wonderful sunny day in Central Maine.

It’s day 10 of National Poetry Month, and man what a wonderful day we had here on the ridge. Temps ran up the thermometer and topped out in the mid seventies, and for the first time in a long time, it didn’t feel like winter.

I actually put a pair of shorts on this afternoon, and my bony goat legs warmed up nicely as I sat on the front steps. The birds were singing, the geese were traveling and Chucky, our resident ground hog came out of his hole to stretch and yawn away the sleepy seeds of a long winter’s nap. It was a sight to see as he scratched and groomed and scratched and followed it up by another long, lazy yawn.

What a day! What a beautiful day! For a short time I actually forgot about how long the winter months dragged on. I forgot about all of the shoveling, and ice scraping, and throwing salt and oh my but what a fantastic day!

The only thing that could top this day, is another one just like it tomorrow.

In a perfect world, right? Grin

The poem below actually felt like a sunny day as I typed it. One more poem for the month, and one more day in the books.

I hope you all have a great week and I hope you get the chance to feel those warming rays of spring on your smiling faces.

Take care, and be well.



Southern Winds

The weather turned today.
Southern winds beckoned the mercury to rise.
By day’s first light, the geese formed their familiar letters.
Tail feathers arched to bend the morning breeze.

A robin rejoiced as it dashed across the grass.
Two downy fluffs hung upside down on the suet cage.
A red squirrel wondered why its winter tunnels disappeared.
Red cardinals rejoiced with their majestic melodic call.

The noon time sun felt warm on my face.
The usual chill in the air was but a lingering memory.
Two motorcycles loudly roared by the house.
A deep breath built a longing for another similar day.

By 6pm, the clouds rolled in.
The thermometer began to huddle down under its layered quilt.
The wind cleverly shifted out of the west.
I wonder what tomorrow will bring.


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