Ode to February

Ode to February
(with apologies to all late Aquarians and Early Pisceans)

O, February,
you quiet, little middle-time,
you period of nothing,
you rest-stop,
hiatus.

You gray, dark, quiet,
slumbersome days of waiting.
Waiting, stoic.
Waiting.

Waiting to get past you,
waiting to get by you,
waiting to get over you,
you hump in the middle of the roof,
you last rise before the gentle, welcome
downhill swing into spring and summer.

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