28 Days of Purification
a man can be no more ready for February
than he is for his own death
bringing in the second wave of winter’s strike
icy flakes whipping in the wind
relentlessly low temperature
shortest month of the year
but you wouldn’t know it to take a walk in it
to brave its breath upon your cheeks
it comes on with the bravado of a thousand Januaries
a small dog with the teeth of a wolf
not to be understated
just when you wished the season was ending
it leaps back to into bitter action
with shivering esteem
a man can be no more ready for February
than he is for his own death
