Pause For Poetry:
Michael Hawkes /41

The Ides of March

A poem by Michael Hawkes

Today snow melts in the sunshine
To run away in rivulets
And birds pop up as tho’ they’d never left.

Here they are then, dressed for summer
Puffing up their fluffy breasts,
Belting out last years refrains,
Refurbishing their feathered nests.

But they’re too early for the worms
And for the insects they’re too soon,
We’re still waiting for the earth to warm,
Not yet expecting flowers to bloom.

A flock of tethered children
From the day-care toddle by,
As a squirrel on the fence post
Winks a knowing little eye.

And these signs of life continuing
Despite the awful shape we’re in
Insist I stop indulging in
A sloppy urge to cry.

16/03/22 –  Hawkes

Feature image: Soly Moses from Pexels

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