April Snow

Hoary robins, snow-line troopers, on-time travelers,

Stymied on my whitened lawn;

Essential plans, changed and gone.

I feel at fault; I put my skis away;

Guilt and heartfelt sadness ply my mind today.

The fickle moods of April:  one day green the next

Dead white,

Stopped migration

At its frenzied height.

One bored skier to blame:

 Pre-emptive order to the season game.

Consoled only by filled bird feeders

And next week’s rain.

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