February is the month in which I feel naturally most inclined to write poetry. I noticed this pattern in early years. The output always spikes, sometimes dramatically. Almost every year since 1995 I have written more poems during the shortest month than any other. Sometimes I write more in February than all other seasons put together. Since noticing the pattern I have become attuned to the flow but cannot explain it.
In February I also notice increasing daylight more than any other time. It speeds up. It is welcome. Maybe poems come from the sun. It is a good enough explanation for me. Some aspects of creativity benefit from scrutiny, but not this. I let it be and work with it, spending time with pen and paper, or standing in front of the refrigerator.