I'm looking backward and foreward simultaneously. Yesterday was the start of spring, March 20, a brilliant, sunny day — my last of classes. Today is cloudy and cold, the start of finals, and while I'm looking forward now to spring, I'm reviewing an entire winter's worth of work. So it goes here.
So what am I to make of this "one-step-forward, two-step-back" season? Seeing as T. S. Eliot says "April is the cruelest month," only A. R. Ammons's
Eyesight
It was May before my
attention came
to spring and
my word I said
to the southern slopes
I've
missed it, it
came and went before
I got right to see:
don't worry, said the mountain,
try the later northern slopes
or if
you can climb, climb
into spring: but
said the mountain
it's not that way
with all things, some
that go are gone
I know here that June will always go with spring. Summer, anyone?
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