Biting at the bit

I am standing over my Barbecue grill,
It’s a thirty degree day outside…
It’s balmy!
I saw a high school kid today
In a tank top and shorts
wading through two feet
Of melting wet, cold snow.
The flames on the grill
Pay no heed to spring’s
Faux weather.
They lick the coals,
Consume its fuel
And singe the burgers

making a hissing sound

singing praises along the way.
I am grilling,
We are biting at the bit…
That boy today,
Me at my grill
The children down
The street who are
Trying out still hibernating
Playground equipment.
Biting at the bit of spring
And by sheer will
Forcing these seasons
To turn itself
Winter’s white blanket
green and flowering
Fields…biting at the bit
And willing this spring to
To open up its doors

once again.