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.

image of three birch trees standing against a pink-and-golden sunset

OverTheRainbow

VT

11 years old

More by OverTheRainbow

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  • Poetry

    By OverTheRainbow

    last snow (again)

    it's snowing,

    again,

    and through the endless endless white and the soft ticking of the grandfather clock

    on the wall i halfheartedly wonder what the cardinal

    in the bird feeder thinks of this.

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  • Poetry

    By OverTheRainbow

    generational

    My grandmother never cut flowers with scissors, raised her nonexistent eyebrows plucked beyond all veins of recognition, blinked one eye fishlike & said a knife was all she needed.

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  • Poetry

    By OverTheRainbow

    My True Home, Vermont

    Being a Vermonter is spending six months of the year wearing a jacket.

    Being a Vermonter is running outside in nothing but leggings and a sweater, thinking it’s springtime when it hits 47 degrees.

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