Anticipation

It’s the cold that hits first
42 degrees is far from the 82 degrees
We left this morning in San Juan
And my body feels its jolt as we
Enter the plane’s jetway

The barrenness of the
Winter landscape hits next
As we cruise through interstate traffic
On our way home

Then, arriving home,
The usually much admired 
Horizon visible from
Our apartment windows 
Seems stark –
Framed by curtain-less windows
The slatted shades raised

Our apartment now seems 
A Zen monument to plainness
Offering only a monotone gray sky and
Naked trees as a backdrop

Where is the color?
The warmth?
The life-giving nature of the Tropics?
The blues of the ocean?
The greens of the trees?
The grace of the swaying Royal Palms in the breeze?

I feel bereft
Wondering why I’d allowed
Such a spare environment
To exist in our living space

The next morning however
As I sit with my beloved cup of coffee
In my comfy glider chair,
I realize I have something here 
I don’t experience in the Tropics:

Anticipation of Spring
The reawakening of Life
That faithfully erupts 
Each orbit of the Earth
Around the sun
I am calmed

I wonder too what it
Will feel like when
All there is to anticipate
Is the end of anticipation
When only death awaits my physical body

I hope to remember even then
The eternal reawakening of 
“What Is” – 
Best exemplified by Mother Nature
And her magnificent offerings.



Andrea DiLorenzo
February 23, 2025