by Terry Savoie
With April nearly spent, old folks complain
since they’re bone-brittle, penned in
the house far too long, fearing shattered
hips, fractured femurs or wrists following
one of the freakish falls on ice in this painful
end of winter weather. Who dares chance
a morning constitutional as long as the heavens
continue rumbling on with threats & echoes
of thunder snow? We know how our snow-
drops & first daffodils are only now
pouting in side garden beds, bending low,
limp beneath the snow’s weight as the gods,
hesitant, remain indecisive about which to go,
refusing to finally make up their minds: now
it’s spring, no, now let it snow. A string of snow
geese fly low over our rooftop, winging for
cover, honking, complaining, complaining more.
Beyond a previous appearance in Portage, nearly four hundred of Terry’s poems have appeared both here and abroad over the past four decades. These include recent or forthcoming issues of The American Journal of Poetry, One, Bluestem, Cortland Review, America, Chiron Review and Birmingham Poetry Review. Terry’s chapbook, Reading Sunday, won the Bright Hill Competition and was published in the spring of 2018.
Portage Magazine 