Monday, April 11, 2011

Springtime?

Spring.
I seem to fall for you every year.
You appear, breath, and dye my heart different pastel colors.
And then, teasingly you stick your tongue out, pull down a cover of snow, and hide.
My red Toms that have been previously established as cheery, now are wet and angry. They keep asking me why I fall for your tricks.
I begin to defend myself and then I remember...
The single pair of socks shared between two sisters cold and unprepared feet for a week. It was April.
The morning I came upstairs to find my roommates lounging instead of class attending, when asked why they opened up the blinds. Snow blinded me. It was June.
You're right, I should have known better Red Toms.
As to you Spring, let's make a deal. You appear and stay for a while, and I'll promise to use you in all the proper ways. I'll picnic in light cardigans, smell the blooming flowers, and drive with the window rolled down.
Deal?

2 comments:

  1. This is so Kelsey.

    Thanks. Sometimes (most times) I need a dose of Kelsey and her angry/cheerful power-play.

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  2. P.S. Come to Seattle. It's real Spring here. As in my-tree-has-already-turned-from-blossoms-to-leaves kind of real Spring. As in I-picked-a-bouquet-of-dandelions-in-a-cardigan kind of real Spring. As in I-leave-my-windows-open-and-not-because-it's-just-too-hot kind of real Spring.

    Come to Seattle.

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