springboard;
where the cowslips there slip I
summary;
summer in the houses fever in the hay showers in the thunder dreams in the day
windfall;
frost in the killing weather in the vane bulls in the rushes hurry in the cane
winter rose;
fire in the place again three wise snow men.
Read it out loud and the poem starts to behave like a game. It moves through the seasons, but not in a straight line: each short heading ("springboard," "summary," "windfall," "winter rose") is a familiar word bent slightly out of shape, as if the calendar itself were being pun-ridden. "Where the cowslips / there slip I" is the clearest example, a bit of nonsense that works purely through sound.
The stanzas that follow are built from small reversals and stock phrases turned inside out. Fever sits in the hay, dreams in the day, hurry in the cane, so that ordinary expressions keep swapping their usual partners. Nothing here tells a story or argues a point, and the speaker barely appears. What comes through is a playful, slightly mischievous mood, someone enjoying how language can tilt. The ending, with its fire returning and "three wise snow men," is a joke that also quietly closes the year, winter meeting both warmth and a wink.