The Fisherman and Passerby

Freed from ice the surface rushes
forming waves which dance
together joyfully before collapsing.

The eager fisherman
stands holding his rod
on the wind-battered shore,
line dangling below the frigid
surface, hoping fish will rise
to his bait.

A passerby scurries past, small dog
on a leash walking quickly behind.
He shakes his aroogant head while
tsk, tsking the fisherman's
foolishness.

The fisherman hears the
reproach and silently chuckles
as he watches passerby sink
deeper into the upturned collar of
his spring jacket, dusted
off and donned too soon for the
winter chill which lingers.

Smugly the fisherman barely has time
to sip from his nearby coffee cup, tug
down the rim of his warm woollen hat and
flex toes inside his winter boots before his line
is jumping.

Boyishly he grins and reels in his
catch which he admires while
removing the hook. He holds the
floppping fish up, quickly stoops over
the water to release it before standing to
replace the bait.

"Why waste your time?"

Fisherman turns to see the passerby has
circled back to ask the question.

"I don't know," said the fisherman pointing
to the dog. "Why do you waste yours?"

- Vera

Petrified

The sun rides low
in April's sky
while winter's wind
continues to terrorize,
daring petrified leaves
to burst forth
from their buds.

Squirrels scurry tree's
limbs anxious to return
to the warmth of their
Dreys and the few nuts
they have left.

Overhead birds chirp
of the newly hatched
before loudly complaining of
their exposed nests
watching intently wondering
when and where nature's greenery
will first be gleaned.

As sky darkens
sun sets taking
its empty promises
of warmth while silencing
their chatter with an answer
of not today.

I slide between my
cold sheets
shiver off the chill
while taking comfort
from the knowledge
that tomorrow the answer
or the question may
change.

- Vera