Horatian Ode to a Meadville Winter

With deepest apologies to Horace, Keats, Shelley, Rossetti, and anyone else who ever created something beautiful. Also to my grandmother and my first-grade teacher, who expected better.

*

Season of clouds, of barren gray and dun

Close bosom-friend of darkness. What is sun?

A thing of faerie.

Bitterest wind, and snow on snow

Relentless misery in this line too, no place to go;

I cannot approve thee.

 

And yet I could forgive if thou hadst made thy peace

And by the end of February’d ceased

Thy pestilence.

O winter, ah winter, canst not thou see

The month of March is not the place for thee?

Get hence.

 

Another thing I wish to say concerns your roads

I wouldn’t wish them on rats or pigs or toads;

They are despicable.

Snowplows, all unwitting, have spirited away thy concrete

And left a Swiss cheese where solid and gaseous meet

In random acts of violence.

4 thoughts on “Horatian Ode to a Meadville Winter

  1. I ran across this quote recently–“What good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness.” -John Steinbeck Hopefully that can be an encouragement to you… 🙂 I’ve been trying to enjoy the snow, freezing cold weather, and snowy roads….it really can be fun! But it’s hard to see it that way. Have a blessed day!!

  2. I love this! Poetry is a wonderfully effective medium for poking fun at tribulations. 😛 Congrats to you for keeping your humor even in the bleak winter’s-end!

Add a comment