Dying for Spring
Tomorrow, no today, since it's after midnight, will be a spring day. And I'm glad of it. No matter what you fear, a true spring day can fix it. A day where you breathe fresh air and eat sunshine is always a good day. Hasn't it felt like spring would never come? My breath of spring never bloomed, stilted by the seesaw of early warm weather and late cold. The rock irises were meager. The daffodils should be near their peak now but they were slow in coming. Everything late. No leaves, no green in the trees along the river. Only the glories and the crocus and the wildflowers in the woods, the yellow trout lilies and the white saxifrage, to show there might be a spring.