the calendar is the only thing that doesn't care about spring

the robins outside my window don't care if it is sunny or snowing. we have passed the 20th and their wings are made of maple sugar & time.

the sun no longer knows what time to wake up. we have passed the 20th and she keeps forgetting to meet me at the bus stop.

the daffodil shoots on the lawn have never met the tiny crocuses budding in the woods. we have passed the 20th and i keep realizing everything dies.

the puddle at the end of the street is like a tiny sky. we have passed the 20th and the clouds are becoming jealous.

the thermostat is dipping and rising like some drunken scale, bobbling the numbers as if they are not breakable. we have passed the 20th and everyone is remembering what it feels like to be warm.

the air outside is fresh and pretty with all of the earth and rain missing in sister winter's crisp fold of the sheets. we have passed the 20th and oh my god, right, check the calendar, we've passed the 20th,

it's spring.