Too Late Winter

In long winters when curious bears hibernate, When even those few songbirds left behind are stoically silent at their least amorous time, When uneven bare trees and bushes retire into aptic dormant deep naked entropy, It is sad seasonally appropriate to barely live outside robotic, lethargic, biotic bionic frozenly mechanistic and yet deeply empathic, simultaneously. Then springs Spring! Let synaptic mania swell up again, Open the windows and darkening doors to set this home and love in fresh-incoming sappy order Resiliently resonant enough to last through sweltering dog days of co-empathic musky slumbering buzzing drowsy summer, fat with greens united, and not uncuriously uniform.