Such a Fine Day!

Winter chokes its way into Spring, spitting and coughing,

Making up its mind, as if for breath it is gasping.

Should it concede and let Spring win this round?

Or should it execute one final blasting?

The dawn's pale saffron glow

Hangs like a curtain above the horizon so low.

Stark silhouettes of trees shatter the peaceful sky.

While smoke from chimneys does scarcely blow.

An early spring day begins calm until

Punctuated by the honking of geese so shrill.

In V-formation they swarm from the south

Descending to open water, farm ponds, and rills.

In town it's the time of the mud and slush

As busy streets awake from the hush.

Water in rivulets sparkles in ditches

While traffic flies by in its usual rush.

It's the first warm day and a jogger in shorts

Puffs his way up a slope with his many cohorts.

Teen joyriders' music of high decibel beat

Greets joy-walkers with their dogs of all sorts.

When the weather is perfect as upon request,

Dad used to say of a day so richly blessed,

“Such a fine day...just like I would have made it myself!”

In flawless Norwegian was his comment expressed!