IV. While There’s Green Here

III. When the Storms Come

**

Like gray light, leading morning,
and like umpires, gruffly warning,
and like kittens, with their too-close stare,
time reminds us that it’s there.

This Saturday, it’s partly cloudy.
Let the creek get good and rowdy.
Whether water falls or not,
touch it while it’s not yet hot.

Spring lasts long here, ends in instants.
Summer’s first waves come like misprints.
Soon, though, those hints won’t have lied.
Soon, we’ll all be stuck inside.

This Saturday, the clock will pause
like kittens rest, and lick its paws.
Some free here will be seen here.
Come be here, while there’s green here.

**

V. The Grackles Are Up to Something

Some essays, but mostly blogging about Notre Dame. On Twitter at @StuartNMcGrath
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