The Spring Air

Spring was never a thing to fear
Air whistles in from tropical locales
Wiping the sweat from my neck
Paws daintily on scolding black asphalt

And I am on the moon, or Mars
Whichever is closer to the surface of the sun
Dreaming of shady forests of green
Cacti wink and hold their water in for the summer

One can think of snow drifts
There is solace in the night, earth's encompassing shadow