Woken by winter chills, winds
ground’s snowblanket sparkling
in what few casts of sunlight peek
between gray — a fog of a sky
Each day has been a half life in half light
abandoning some part of me to the pillow
plucking personality like feathers
as they poke through a weary, weakening skull
leave this piece, lose that piece, forget then
until identity is a foreign concept others seek
you cannot find, so hide! ashamed
guilt for gullibility,
grief for the girls we used to be,
gone for the season,
gone for good
smothered by shams
strangled by her sheets
body cold as the barren landscapes
from which bravery has been banished
this bed has been my grave
Then this! What sun! Arise, she says.
The birds know as the buds know, and the pillow
relinquishes its hold on us, and me, feather by feather,
piece by piece, so that wings may once again take wind,
and I choke and sputter all the way to a chirp!
Oh daylight! Oh springlife! Oh, hope.
I thought we’d never return.
melodramatic? perhaps, but spring has my soul singing.
this was one of the longest, hardest winters I’ve faced with seasonal depression.
spring is still sputtering to a start in my neck of the woods, but i’m taking every advantage of warmish weather to get out beneath that fireball in the sky and let its shine soak into my sunparched skin.
how many years I have wasted spring in waiting for summer…
Thanks to Terijo for the prompt!