PB...

I did note internally that your paraphrase was in response to a mention of syntax elsewhere in the discussion. I just went to work immediately on my reaction to that summation. Mostly because it defined the problem I was having with the language in its literal portrayal and was eager to clarify my interpretation. I kinda figured, knew, you most probably didn't approach an analyses in that way out of the box. But I did figure, given your expertise, that you would eventually go at it from, I am sure, one of many different angles. I can see where the paraphrase made for a good and useful approach. I might stop reading this poem now, the 'something hid' is gnawing at me. I am at once stymied yet sure it is the key to the riddle. Or there is no riddle, it is just simply about the season.

MA…

You did mention that your search for poems of the season turned up very few for winter. Couldn't you please, (oh please!) offer a winter poem by an unknown? Hey, what a coincidence, I have one of my own! To wit:

That Winter in Love

How like crickets the leaves
Now dry and brittle
Scrape and chirp
Across the hardened dirt
Moving with the east wind
Scuttling along in schools
Forming drifts along the way

Before the chill
Can reach the bone
The stunning colors
Will have dropped away
The tepid brown and grays
Will lighten and darken
Reflecting clouds or slanted sunshine

And when the chill
Stiffens the shrunken grasses
With its hoary dusts
Making frosted leave cakes
And crinkles underfoot
Our words visible in the air
The summer will be a past life

We will walk out in the snow
Footprints trailing behind
Like pieces of a squandered life
That you could follow home
Or leave for someone to find
That perhaps on the same path
They will find you and change things

And not that we would change
Even if the footprints always circle
We are sure we choose the route
Sometimes going back the same way
Or cutting across the open space
Always finding each other again
Content not to understand or judge

We will live indoors now
Shaking boots and tossing scarves
Quietly watching listless trees
Clutching the thick warmed air
Cozy and hearing the wind
I will pull you close and wait
Until you squeeze me and smile