what's that smell?

Spring is in the air:
A dubious proclamation to make mid-March in Montreal.
One must interpret the signs creatively.

I lost my winter gloves.
That may mean another cold snap’s on the way.
And I lost my travel umbrella
So maybe there’s a voyage in my near future.
The jury’s still out on that one…
Fall grant results are in and spring deadlines loom.
Daylight savings time came into effect early this year.
But I keep sleeping though that extra hour.
Tax time is also in effect; my office floor is a sea of receipts.
The federal budget came down stinking of electioneering.
The provincial election campaign stinks of provincialism.
Is this a three-way race or a three-legged race?
Canvassers ring our door-to-door bell in record numbers.
Mild weather helping to get the vote out.



The annual Saint Patrick’s Day snow has all but melted.
There’s not much green, no buds, no leaves, no sun, no flowers.
But at long last an English bookstore has sprouted up in Mile End.
Perhaps that’s not a sign of spring, but surely it’s a sign of something.
Welcome S. W. Welch. By the time the fresh paint smell fades
the neighbourhood will be in full bloom.
. . . . .