Summering in Pennsylvania
and wintering in Florida
would give me two addresses.
I’ve long since settled for one
and call it home.
I shovel
my way through driveway snow,
unbox a hat I hate
to wear and struggle into gloves
I should have thrown away
five years ago.
I know
that trees are slumbering in place,
that grass stays hidden under lawns
of snow, that roots and bulbs
await a warmer reveille.
I let the chiller mornings
help me reach the resurrection
of a greener life when I can
waken to enjoy the pleasure
I deserve for earning April.