tis cold

The winter had passed, or so I thought, as spring crept up, with greening leaves and gentle rains. But then the sky grew dark, and the windws became biting, rather than caressing, and the plants chilled and wilted, and the shiver, which hides deep in my bones, came for to make it's woeful attempt to warm my body.

When I was a kid, everyone was worried about nuclear winter, as if the nuclear war required to bring that about, wouldn've have been bad enough, we had to pretend like what happened after such an event, mattered, even though anyone with a brain knew the reality of a "winnable war" was mere political talk, glossing over deaths in the millions/billions worldwide. People acted, as if our highly specialized society's greatest problem, would be keeping warm. The fact that 99% of the people in this country wouldn't know how to grow a vegatable, if you gave them seeds and loam, much less if they had to start farming from scratch. No plows. No farm&home to supply pre-germinated seeds, just waiting to be planted.

It's not that cold. Probably just a temporary chill. It is early spring, after all. But I remember, panics of the past, have a way of sneaking up to become the crisis of tommorrow. What everyone shouts about, is all too often, what everyone forgets.

My mother used to say
  You'll be a doctor someday
And I would laugh and agree
  And dream of the day I could
Sit in a lab
Some goo on a slab
  And never have to talk to her again
It's not that I hate her
  Or even berate her
Even though she seemed so cruel at times
  I just want to be out
    From under that thumb
    That says everything I do isn't right
  I just don't add up
    To the hopes she held out
  And it's hard to not cry
  At the tears in the eye
  Of a mother, you wish would just care
    About who I am
    Not who they had planned
But I might as well ask fish for the sea