It's too cold yet for bare skin on the earth
yet warm enough for the fruit to rot
For the ice cream cake of my youth
to melt into a steady mirror, a steady
lake where frogs gather, almost as if
orating a new testament to progress
amending nature's constitution with
tender care for water and its width.
There is reason to celebrate, even
after the cake is gone or after we
give in to the season & can no longer
raise our hands in joy it is possible
to raise one steady hand in hope
So all of us are shivering save one