Resistance is futile
by Chris Heeter
Who could sleep with all this ruckus?
It is barely light as the chorus begins:
the croaking, the peeping, the chirping,
the quacking, the honking.
My winter ears hear it all,
accustomed to the season of slumber
through winter's long, dark night.
Interrupted only by owl's soft call,
or sled dogs answering train whistles.
But winter has bid farewell,
and this wild world has awakened,
I am not spared in my den of wood and brick.
Spring calls to me as surely as the buds on the trees.
Calling me out of my slumber
and into the lively energy of spring.
Resistance is futile.
Published by Yileen Press